IN the course of the 6th and 7th centuries
a number of men left England and settled abroad among the
heathen Germans, partly from a wish to gain new converts to
the faith, partly because a change of affairs at home made
them long for a different field of labour. Through the influx
of the heathen Anglo-Saxons, the British Christians had been
deprived of their influence, and when Christianity was restored
it was under the auspices of princes who were favourably inclined
towards Rome. Men who objected to the Roman sway sought independence
among the heathens abroad in preference to dependence on strangers
at home, and it is owing to their efforts that Christianity
was introduced into the valleys leading up from the Rhine,
into the lake districts of Bavaria, and into Switzerland.

A century later the Church had so far extended
the limits of her power that it was felt desirable at Rome
that these Christian settlers should be brought into subjection.
For the tenets which they held and the traditions which had
been handed down to them differed in many ways from what Rome
could countenance. They were liberal in tolerating heathen
practices, and ignorant of matters of ritual and creed which
were insisted on in the Church of Rome. The bishops, who were
self-appointed, were won over by the promise of recognising
the title to which they laid claim, but the difficulty remained
of weaning them from their objectionable practices. Efforts
were accordingly made to reconvert the [119] converted districts
and to bring some amount of pressure to bear on the clergy.

The representative of this movement in South
Germany was Boniface, otherwise called Wynfred, on whom posterity
has bestowed the title Apostle of Germany, in recognition
of his services in the twofold character of missionary and
reformer. He was a native of Wessex, and his mission abroad
has an interest in connection with our subject because of
the friendly relations he entertained with many inmates of
women's houses in England, and because he invited women as
well as men to leave England and assist him in the work which
he had undertaken.

Boniface had grown up as an inmate of the settlement
of Nutshalling near Winchester and first went abroad in 716,
but proceeded no further than Utrecht. Conjecture has been
busy over the difficulties which took him away, and the disappointments
which brought him back. Utrecht was an old Roman colony which
had been captured from the Franks by Adgisl, king of the Frisians,
who gave a friendly reception there to Bishop Wilfrith in
678. But King Radbod, his successor, was hostile to the Franks
and to Christianity, and it was only in deference to the powerful
Frankish house-mayor Pippin that he countenanced the settling
of Willibrord, a pupil of Wilfrith, with eleven companions
in 692. However, owing to Radbod's enmity the position of
these monks was such that they were obliged to leave, and
it is possible that Boniface when he went to Utrecht was disappointed
in not finding them there.

Two years later Boniface went on a pilgrimage
to Rome, where the idea of bringing his energies to assist
in the extension of Papal influence originated. The Pope furnished
him with a letter in which he is directed to reclaim the faithless,
and armed with this he travelled in the districts of the Main.
But as soon as the news of the death of Radbod the Frisian
(719) reached him he went to Utrecht, where Willibrord had
returned. We do not know what afterwards prompted him to resume
his work in Germany, but perhaps the proposal of Willibrord
that he should settle with him altogether awakened Boniface
to the fact that he was not working for the Pope as he proposed.
His reception at Rome, where he again went in 722, and the
declaration of faith he handed in, are [120] in favour of
this view. But Gregory II who was aware of the abilities of
Boniface forgave him, and on the strength of his declaration
provided him with further letters. One of these was addressed
to the Christians of Germany, to the representative clergy
and to the Thuringians, and another to the house-mayor, Karl
Martel, who had succeeded Pippin; both letters commanded that
the authority of Boniface was to be everywhere recognised.

From this time for a period of over thirty
years Boniface devoted his energies to extending, organizing
and systematizing the power of Rome in Germany. His character
appears in different lights varying with the standpoint from
which he is regarded. Judging from his letters he is alternately
swayed by doggedness of purpose, want of confidence in himself,
dependence on friends, and jealous insistence on his own authority.
He has a curious way of representing himself as persecuted
when in fact he is the persecutor, but his power of rousing
enthusiasm for his work and for his personality is enormous.

His biographer Wilibald describes this power
as already peculiar to him during his stay at Nutshalling,
where many men sought him to profit by his knowledge, 'while
those who on account of their fragile sex could not do so,
and those who were not allowed to stay away from their settlements,
moved by the spirit of divine love, sought eagerly for an
account of him....'

The interest Boniface had aroused at home accompanied
him on his travels. He remained in friendly communication
with many persons in England, to whom he wrote and who wrote
to him. Among the friends and correspondents whose letters
are preserved are churchmen, princes, abbesses, clerics of
various degrees, and nuns. From the point of view of this
book the letters addressed to women are of special interest,
since they bring us into personal contact so to speak with
the abbesses and inmates of English convents, and we hear
for the first time what they personally have to tell us of
themselves.

Among Boniface's early friends and correspondents
was Eadburg, abbess of the monastery in Thanet. She was a
woman of great abilities, zealous in the pursuit of knowledge,
and her influence secured several royal charters for her settlement.
She had probably [121] succeeded Mildthrith, but at what date
is not known. Her letters to Boniface unfortunately have not
been preserved, but the letters he wrote to her are full of
interesting matter. The earliest of these was written between
718 and 719; in it Boniface does not yet address her as abbess.

In this letter Boniface in compliance with
a wish had expressed, describes a vision of the future life
which a monk living at Mildburg's monastery at Wenlock had
seen during it state of suspended animation. Boniface had
first heard of this vision from the abbess Hildelith of Barking,
and he writes a graphic and eloquent account of it, parts
of which are put into the mouth of the monk himself. The account
gives curious glimpses of that imagery of the future life
which early Christians dwelt upon and elaborated more and
more. Nuns at this time as well as later took a special interest
in the subject.

First the monk is carried aloft through flames
which enwrap the world. He sees many souls for the possession
of which angels and devils are fighting. Impersonations of
his sins confront and accost him, but his virtues arise also
and enter into conflict with the sins. The virtues are supported
by angels and the fight ends to the monk's advantage. He also
sees fiery waters flowing towards hell: and souls like black
birds which hover over waters from whence proceed the wails
of the damned. He sees Paradise, and a river of pitch over
which a bridge leads to Jerusalem, and souls are trying to
cross it. Among others suffering torments he catches sight
of King Ceolred of Mercia. At last the angels cast the monk
down from the height and he re-awakens to life.

Such descriptions of a future life multiply
as one nears the Middle Ages. By the side of the one which
Boniface sent to Eadburg should be read another by him, a
fragmentary one, which supplements it. The sufferers in hell
mentioned in this are Cuthburg, Ceolla and Wiala (of whom
nothing is known), an unnamed abbot and Aethelbald, king of
Mercia (756).

The description of the after life given by
Boniface agrees in various ways with one contained in the
works of Bede. According to this account there was a man in
Northumbria named Drycthelm, who died, came to life again,
and described what he had seen of the world to come.

The other letters which Boniface addressed
to Eadburg are of [122] later date and were written when he
had settled abroad and was devoting his energies to converting
the Hessians and Thuringians. At this time he asked her to
send him through the priest Eoban the letters of the apostle
Peter, which she was to write for him in gold characters.
'Often,' he says, Gifts of books and vestments, the proofs
of your affection, have been to me a consolation in misfortune.
So I pray that you will continue as you have begun, and write
for me in gold characters the epistles of my master, the holy
apostle Peter, to the honour and reverence of holy writ before
mortal eyes while I am preaching, and because I desire always
to have before me the words of him who led me on my mission....'
He ends his letter by again hoping that she will accede to
his request so 'that her words may shine in gold to the glory
of the Father in heaven.'

The art of writing in gold on parchment was
unknown to Scottish artists and had been introduced into England
from Italy. Bishop Wilfrith owned the four gospels 'written
in purest gold on purple-coloured parchment,' and a few of
the purple gospels with gold writing of this period have been
preserved. The fact that women practiced the art is evident
from the letter of Boniface. Eadburg must have had a reputation
for writing, for Lul, one of Boniface's companions, sent her
among other gifts a silver style, (graphium argenteum)
such as was used at the time for writing on wax tablets.

Boniface received frequent gifts from friends
in England. Eoban, who carried his letter asking Eadburg for
the Epistles of St Peter, was the bearer of a letter to an
Abbot Duddo in which Boniface, reminding him of their old
friendship, asked for a copy of the Epistles of St Paul. Again
Boniface wrote asking Abbot Huetberht of Wearmouth for the
minor works (opuscula) of Bede, and Lul, who was with
him, wrote to Dealwin to forward the minor works of Ealdhelm,
bishop of Sherbourne, those in verse and those in prose.

Judging from the correspondence the effective
work of Boniface resulted in the execution of only a small
part of his great schemes. His original plan was repeatedly
modified. There is extant a letter from the Pope which shows
that he hoped for the conversion of the heathen Saxons and
Thuringians, and the idea was so far [123] embraced by Boniface
that he wrote a letter to the bishops, priests, abbots and
abbesses in England asking them to pray that the Saxons might
accept the faith of Christ. But the plan for their conversion
was eventually abandoned.

At this period belief in the efficacy of prayer
was unbounded, and praying for the living was as much part
of the work of the professed as praying for the dead. Settlements
apparently combined for the purpose of mutually supporting
each other by prayer. A letter is extant in the correspondence
of Boniface in which the abbot of Glastonbury, several abbesses
and other abbots agree to pray at certain hours for each other's
settlements.

In his times of trouble and tribulation Boniface
wrote to all his friends asking for prayers. 'We were troubled
on every side,' he wrote to the abbess Eadburg, quoting Scriptures,
'without were lightings, within were fears.' She was to pray
for him that the pagans might be snatched from their idolatrous
customs and unbelievers brought back to the Catholic mother
Church.

Eadburg had liberally responded to his request
for gifts. 'Beloved sister,' he wrote, 'with gifts of holy
books you have comforted the exile in Germany with spiritual
light! For in this dark remoteness among German peoples man
must come to the distress of death had he not the word of
God as a lamp unto his feet and as a light unto his paths.
Fully trusting in your love I beseech that you pray for me,
for I am shaken by my shortcomings, that take hold of me as
though I were tossed by a tempest on a dangerous sea.' This
consciousness of his shortcomings was not wholly due to the
failure of his plans, for Boniface at one period of his life
was much troubled by questions of theology. The simile of
being tempest-tossed is often used by him. In a letter addressed
to an unnamed nun he describes his position in language similar
to that in which he addresses Eadburg. This nun also is urged
to pray for him in a letter full of biblical quotations.

Among the letters to Boniface there are several
from nuns and abbesses asking for his advice. Political difficulties
and the changed attitude of the ruling princes of Northumbria
and Mercia towards convents brought such hardships to those
who had adopted the religious profession that many of them
wished to leave their homes, and availed themselves of the
possibility of doing so which was afforded by the plan of
going on pilgrimage to Rome.

[124] The wish to behold the Eternal City had
given a new direction to the love of wandering, so strong
a trait in human nature. The motives for visiting Rome have
been different in different periods of history. To the convert
in the 8th and 9th centuries Rome appeared as the fountain-head
of Christianity, the residence of Christ's representative
on earth, and the storehouse of famous deeds and priceless
relics. Architectural remains dating from the period of Roman
rule were numerous throughout Europe and helped to fill the
imagination of those dwelling north of the Alps with wonder
at the possible sights and treasures which a visit to Rome
itself might disclose. Prelates and monks undertook the journey
to establish personal relations with the Pope and to acquire
books and relics for their settlements, but the taste for
travelling spread, and laymen and wayfarers of all kinds joined
the bands of religious pilgrims. Even kings and queens, with
a sudden change of feeling which the Church magnified into
a portentous conversion, renounced the splendour of their
surroundings and donned the pilgrim's garb in the hope of
beholding the Eternal City in its glory.

Among the letters which are preserved in the
correspondence of Boniface there is one from Aelflaed, abbess
of Whitby, in which she writes to the abbess Adolana (probably
Adela) of Pfälzel (Palatiolum) on the Mosel near Trier,
recommending to her care a young abbess who is on her way
to Rome. This letter shows that Aelflaed was well versed in
writing Latin. The name of the abbess in whose behalf the
letter was penned is not known, but she may be identical with
Wethburg, who lived and died at Rome.

'To the holy and worshipful abbess Adolana,
a greeting in the Lord of eternal salvation.

'Since we have heard of your holiness from
those who have come from your parts, and from widespread report,
in the first place I pray for your warm affection, for the
Lord has said: This is my command, that ye love one another.

'Further we make humble request that your holy
and fervent words may commend us worthily to God Almighty,
should it not be irksome to you to offer devotion in return
for ours; for James the Apostle has taught and said: Pray
for one another, that ye may be saved.

[125] 'Further to your great holiness and usual
charity we humbly and earnestly commend this maiden vowed
to God, a pious abbess, our dear and faithful daughter, who
since the days of her youth, from love of Christ and for the
honour of the apostles Peter and Paul, has been desirous of
going to their holy threshold, but who has been kept back
by us until now because we needed her and in order that the
souls entrusted to her might profit. And we pray that with
charity and true kindness she may be received into your goodwill,
as well as those who are travelling with her, in order that
the desired journey with God's help and your willing charity
may at last be accomplished. Therefore again and again we
beseech that she may be helped on her way with recommendations
from you to the holy city Rome, by the help of the holy and
signbearing leader (signifier) of the apostles Peter; and
if you are present we hope and trust she may find with you
whatever advice she requires for the journey. May divine grace
watch over your holiness when you pray for us.'

The desire to go southward was strengthened
among religious women by the increasing difficulties of their
position at home. Monastic privileges were no longer respected
by the kings of Mercia and Northumbria, and the Church lacked
the power of directly interfering in behalf of monks and nuns.
There is in the correspondence a letter which Boniface wrote
in his own name and in that of his foreign bishops to Aethelbald,
king of Mercia (716-756); he sharply rebukes him for his immoral
practices and urges on him the desirability of taking a lawful
wife. He accuses the king of indulging his wicked propensities
even in monasteries and with nuns and maidens who were vowed
to God; following the example of Tacitus, he praises the pure
morals of the heathen Germans. The passages which bear on
the subject are worthy of perusal, for they show how uncertain
was the position of monasteries and how keenly Boniface realized
the difficulties of nuns. He tells the king 'that loose women,
whether they be vowed to religion or not, conceive inferior
children through their wickedness and frequently do away with
them.' The privileges of religious houses, he says, were respected
till the reign of King Osred (706-17) of Northumbria, and
of King Ceolred (709-16) of Mercia, but 'these two kings have
shown their evil disposition and have sinned in a criminal
way against the teaching of the gospels and the doings of
our Saviour. They persisted in vice, in the seduction of nuns
and the contemptuous treatment of monastic rights. Condemned
[126] by the judgment of God, and hurled from the heights
of royal authority, they were overtaken by a speedy and awful
death, and are now cut off from eternal light, and buried
in the depths of hell and in the abyss of the infernal regions.'
We have seen that in the letter written by Boniface to Eadburg,
Ceolred is described as suffering torments in hell, and that
King Aethelbald at a later date is depicted in the same predicament.

With his letter to Aethelbald Boniface forwarded
two others to the priest Herefrith, probably of Lindisfarne,
and to Ecgberht (archbishop of York, 732-66), requesting them
to support him against Aethelbald. 'It is the duty of your
office to see that the devil does not establish his kingdom
in places consecrated to God,' he wrote to Ecgberht, 'that
there be not discord instead of peace, strife instead of piety,
drunkenness instead of sobriety, slaughter and fornication
instead of charity and chastity.' Shortly afterwards he wrote
to Cuthberht, archbishop of Canterbury (740-62), telling him
of the statutes passed at the Synod of Soissons, and severely
censuring the conduct of the layman, ' be he emperor, king
or count, who snatches a monastery from bishop, abbot, or
abbess.'

These admonitions show that the position of
the religious houses and that of their rulers depended directly
on the temper of the reigning prince. In the correspondence
there are several letters from abbesses addressed to Boniface
bearing on this point, which give us a direct insight into
the tone of mind of these women. Their Latin is cumbersome
and faulty, and biblical quotations are introduced which do
not seem always quite to the point. The writers ramble on
without much regard to construction and style, and yet there
is a genuine ring about their letters which makes the distress
described seem very real.

One of these letters was written by an abbess
named Ecgburg, probably at an early period of Boniface's career.
Her reference to the remoteness of her settlement suggests
the idea that it was Repton, and that she herself was identical
with Ecgburg, daughter of Ealdwulf king of the East Angles,
the abbess whom we have noticed in connection with Guthlac.
If that be so her sister Wethburg, to whom she refers, may
be identical with the young unnamed abbess whom Aelflaed sped
on her journey to Rome.

[127] 'Since a cruel and bitter death,' she
writes, 'has robbed me of him, my brother Osher, whom I loved
beyond all others, you I hold dearer than all other men. Not
to multiply words, no day, no night passes, but I think of
your teaching. Believe me it is on account of this that I
love you, God is my witness. In you I confide, because you
were never forgetful of the affection which assuredly bound
you to my brother. Though inferior to him in knowledge and
in merit, I am not unlike him in recognizing your goodness.
Time goes by with increasing swiftness and yet the dark gloom
of sadness leaves me not. For time as it comes brings me increase
of indignities, as it is written "Love of man brings
sorrow, but love of Christ gladdens the heart." More
recently my equally beloved sister Wethburg, as though to
inflict a wound and renew a pang, suddenly passed out of my
sight, she with whom I had grown up and with whom I was nursed
at the same breast. one mother she and I had in the Lord,
and my sister has left me. Jesus is my witness that on all
sides there is sorrow, fear, and the image of death. I would
gladly die if it so pleased God, to whom the unknown is manifest,
for this slow death is no trifle. What was it I was saying
? From my sister not a sudden and bitter death, but a bitterer
separation, divides me; I believe it was for her happiness,
but it left me unhappy, as a corpse laid low, when adopting
the fashion of the age she went on a pilgrimage, even though
she knew how much I loved and cherished her, whom now as I
hear a prison confines at Rome. But the love of Christ, which
is strong and powerful in her, is stronger and more binding
than all fetters, and perfect love casteth out fear. Indeed,
I say, he who holds the power of divination, the Ruler of
high Olympus, has endowed you with divine wisdom, and in his
law do you meditate night and day. For it is written: "How
beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace,
and bring tidings of good things.") She has mounted by
a steep and narrow path, while I remain below, held by mortal
flesh as by irons upon my feet. In the coming judgment full
of joy she, like unto the Lord, will sing: "I was in
prison and ye came unto me." You also in the future life,
when the twelve apostles sit on their twelve seats, will be
there, and in proportion to the number of those whom you have
won by your work, will rejoice before the [128] tribunal of
the eternal King, like unto a leader who is about to be crowned.
But I living in the vale of tears as I deserve, shall be weeping
for my offenses, on account of which God holds me unfit to
join the heavenly hosts. Therefore, believe me, the tempest-tossed
mariner does not so much long for the haven, the thirsty fields
do not long so much for rain, the mother on the winding shore
does not so anxiously wait for her son, as I long to rejoice
in your sight. But oppressed by sins and innumerable offenses,
I so long to be freed from imminent danger, that I am made
desperate; adoring the footsteps of your holiness and praying
to you from the depths of my heart as a sinner, I call to
you from the ends of the earth, O beloved master; as my anxious
heart prompts, raise me to the corner-stone of your prayer,
for you are my hope and a strong tower invisible to the enemy.
And I beg as consolation to my grief and as limit to the wave
of my sorrow, that my weakness may be supported by your intercession
as by a prop. I entreat that you will condescend to give me
some comfort either in the form of a relic or of a few words
of blessing, written by you, in order that through them I
may hold your presence secure.'

By the side of this letter must be quoted another
written by an Abbess Eangith, describing similar difficulties
in a similar strain. We do not know over which settlement
Eangith presided, but her name and that of her daughter Heaburg
of whom she speaks are inscribed in the Durham 'Liber Vitae.'

'Beloved brother in the spirit rather than
in the flesh,' she writes, 'you are magnified by the abundance
of spiritual graces, and to you alone, with God as our sole
witness, we wish to make known what you see here spread out
before you and blotted by our tears: we are borne down by
an accumulation of miseries as by a weight and a pressing
burden, and also by the tumult of political affairs. As the
foaming masses of the ocean when the force of the winds and
the raging fury of the tempest lash up the great sea, carry
in and carry out again the heaving billows dashing over rocks,
so that the keels of the boats are turned upwards and the
mast of the ship is pressed downwards, so do the ships of
our souls groan under the great press of our miseries and
the great mass [129] of our misfortunes. By the voice of truth
has it been said of the heavenly house: ``The rain descended
and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat upon that
house," etc.

'First and before all noteworthy of the things
that affect us from without, must be mentioned the multitude
of our offenses and our want of full and complete faith, due
not so much to care for our own souls but, what is worse and
more oppressive, to care for the souls of those of either
sex and of every age which have been entrusted to us. For
this care involves ministering to many minds and to various
dispositions, and afterwards giving account before the supreme
tribunal of Christ both for obvious sins in deeds and words,
and for secret thoughts which men ignore and God alone witnesseth;
with a simple sword against a double-edged one, with ten thousand
to meet twenty thousand warriors. In addition to this care
of souls we have difficulties in our domestic affairs, and
various disagreements which the jealous enemy of all good
has sown, namely, he who fills the impure hearts of men with
malice and scatters it everywhere, but chiefly in the settlements
of monks and nuns; but it is said "the mighty shall be
mightily tormented." Moreover the poverty and scantiness
of our temporal possessions oppress us, and the smallness
of the cultivated part of our estate; and the hostility of
the king, for we are accused before him by those who envy
us, as a wise man has said: "the bewitching of vanity
obscureth good things." Similarly we are oppressed by
service due to the king and the queen, to bishop and prefect,
officers and attendants. It would take long to enumerate those
things which can be more easily imagined than described.

'To all these evils is added the loss of friends,
connections, and relatives by alliance and by blood. I have
neither son nor brother, neither father nor father's brother,
none but an only daughter who is bereft of all that was dear
to her; and a sister who is old, and the son of our brother,
who too is unhappy in his mind, for our king holds his family
connections in great contempt. There is no one else for us
to rely on; God has removed them all by one chance or another.
Some have died in their native land, and their bodies lie
in the grimy dust of the earth to rise again on the day of
doom, when the Master's trumpet shall sound, and the whole
race of man shall come forth from dark tombs to [130] give
account of themselves; when their spirits, borne upwards in
angelst arms, shall abide with Christ; when all sorrow shall
end, and envy be worn out, and grief and mourning shall vanish
in sight of the saints. Again others have left their native
shores, and trusted themselves to the wide seas, and have
sought the threshold of the holy apostles Peter and Paul and
of all those martyrs, virgins and confessors, whose number
God alone knows.

'For these and other like causes, hardly to
be enumerated in one day though July and August lengthen the
days of summer, we are weary of our present life and hardly
care to continue it. Every man uncertain of his purpose and
distrustful of his own counsel, seeks a faithful friend whose
advice he follows since he distrusts his own; and such faith
has he in him that he lays before him and reveals to him every
secret of his heart. As has been said, what is sweeter than
having someone with whom one can converse as with oneself?
Therefore on account of the pressing miseries we have now
insisted on to the full, we needs must find a true friend,
one whom we can trust more than ourselves; who will treat
our grief, our miseries and our poverty as his own, who will
sympathize with us, comfort us, support us by his words, and
raise us up by wise counsel. Long have we sought him. And
we believe that in you we have found the friend whom we longed
for, whom we wished for, whom we desired.

'Would that God had granted to us that, as
Habakkuk the prophet was sped with food into the lion's den
to the seer Daniel, or that as Philip one of the seven deacons
was sped to the eunuch, we also were sped and could come to
the land and to the district where you dwell; or that it were
possible for us to hear living words from your lips. 'How
sweet are thy words unto my palate, O Lord, sweeter than honey
to my mouth.'

'But since this is not vouchsafed to us and
we are divided from you by a wide expanse of land and of sea
and by the boundaries of many provinces, because of our faith
in you referred to above we will tell you, brother Boniface,
that for a long time we have entertained the design like so
many of our friends, relatives and others, of visiting Rome,
the mistress of the world, there to seek forgiveness of our
sins as many others have done and are now doing; so especially
I (wish to do) since I am advanced in age, and have erred
more than others. Wala, at one time my abbess and spiritual
mother, was acquainted with my wish and my [131] intention.
My only daughter at present is young, and cannot share my
desire. But because we know how many there are who scoff at
this wish and deprecate this desire, and support their view
by adducing what the canons of the synods enjoin, that wherever
anyone has settled and taken his vow, there shall he remain
and there serve God; for we all live in different ways and
God's purposes are unknown, as the prophet says: 'Thy righteousness
is like the great mountains, thy judgments are a great deep,
O Lord'; and because His sacred will and desire in these things
is hidden,--therefore we two, both of us in our difficulty,
call on you earnestly and reverently: be you to us as Aaron,
a mountain of strength, let your prayer be our help, swing
the censer of prayer with incense in sight of the Divine,
and let the lifting up of your hands be as the evening sacrifices.
Indeed we trust in God and beg of your goodness that by supplication
of mouth and inward prayer it may be revealed to you what
seems for us wise and useful: whether we are to live at home
or go forth on pilgrimage. Also we beg of your goodness to
send back your answer across the sea, and reply to what we
have scratched on these leaves in rustic style and with unpolished
wording. We have scant faith in those who glory in appearance
and not in heart, but faith in your love, your charity in
God and your goodness.'

It is not known whether Eangith carried out
her intention and went to Rome.

Boniface had another correspondence with an
abbess named Bugga, but though Eangith states that her daughter
Heaburg was sometimes called by that name, it is not probable
that they were the same, for Boniface writing to Bugga makes
no mention of Eangith's plan, which he would hardly have omitted
to do if Heaburg had been his correspondent.

Bugga was afterwards abbess of a monastery
in Kent. She too sent gifts to Boniface, and later entertained
the idea of going to Rome. In early days the prelate wrote
to her telling her how he had been mercifully led through
unknown countries, how 'the Pontiff of the glorious see' Gregory
II had inclined to him, and how he had cast down 'the enemy
of the Catholic Church, Radbod,' the Frisian.

In reply she assures him of her continued affection
and makes some remarks on books they have exchanged. The Passions
of [132] the Martyrs which he has asked for she has not yet
procured, but she will forward them as soon as she can. 'But
you, my friend,' she writes, 'send me as a consolation what
you promised in your kind letter, your extracts from the holy
writings. And I beseech you to offer the oblation of the holy
mass for one of my relatives whom I loved beyond all others.
I send you by the bearer of this letter fifty gold coins (solidi)
and an altar cloth, better gifts I cannot procure. They are
truly signs of a great affection though of insignificant appearance.'

Bugga does not style herself abbess, but Boniface
addresses her as such in acknowledging the receipt of her
gifts and advising her about going to Rome. On another occasion
he wrote to express concern at her troubles, which he heard
from many people had not diminished since she retired from
rule for the sake of quiet. The letter in which he advises
her about going to Rome is worth quoting.'

'Be it made known to you, dearest sister,'
he writes, 'regarding the advice which you asked for in your
letter, that I do not presume to forbid you the pilgrim's
journey, neither would I directly advise it. I will explain
why. If you gave up the charge you had of the servants of
God, of his virgins (ancillae), and your own monastic life,
for the purpose of securing quiet and the thought of God,
in what way are you now bound to obey the words and the will
of seculars with toil and wearing anxiety? Still if you cannot
find peace of mind in your home in secular life among seculars
it seems right that you should seek in a pilgrimage freedom
for contemplation, especially since you wish it and can arrange
it; just in the way our sister Wethburg did. She told me in
her letter that she had found the quiet she longed for near
the threshold of St Peter. In reference to your wish she sent
me a message, for I had written to her about you, saying that
you must wait till the attacks, hostility and menaces of the
Saracens who have lately reached the Roman States have subsided,
and that God willing she would then send you a letter of invitation.
I too think this best. Prepare yourself for the journey, but
wait for word from her, and then do as God in his grace commands.
As to the collection of extracts for which you ask, be considerate
to my shortcomings. Pressing work and continuous travelling
prevent my furnishing you with what you desire. As soon as
I can I will forward them to please you.

[133] 'We thank you for the gifts and vestments
which you have sent, and pray to God Almighty, to put aside
a gift for you in return with the angels and archangels in
the heights of heaven. And I beseech you in the name of God,
dear sister, yea mother and sweet lady, that you diligently
pray for me. For many troubles beset me through my shortcomings,
and I am more distressed by uncertainty of mind than by bodily
work. Rest assured that our old trust in each other will never
fail us.'

Bugga carried out her intention and went to
Rome, where she met Boniface, who was the Pope's guest about
the year 737. He had achieved a signal success in reconverting
the Hessians, and was now appointed to constitute bishoprics
in Bavaria and to hold councils of Church dignitaries at regular
intervals.' At Rome Bugga and Boniface walked and talked together,
and visited the churches of the holy apostles. A letter from
Aethelberht II, king of Kent, to Boniface refers to their
meeting. Bugga had come back to her old monastery and had
given the king a description of her visit. She attained a
considerable age, for she was advanced in years before her
pilgrimage, and about twenty years later Bregwin, archbishop
of Canterbury (759-765), wrote to Lul informing him of her
death.

Boniface made provision at Rome for the women
in whom he was interested. A certain deacon Gemmulus writes
to him from Rome to inform him that 'the sisters and maidens
of God who have reached the threshold of the apostles' are
there being cared for by himself and others as Boniface has
desired.

The readiness with which Anglo-Saxon nuns went
abroad eventually led to a state of things which cast discredit
on religion. Boniface addressed the following remarks on these
pilgrimages to Cuthberht of Canterbury in the letter written
after the synod of Soissons.

'I will not withhold from your holiness,' he
says, '... that it were a good thing and besides honour and
a credit to your Church and a palliation of evils, if the
synod and your princes forbade women, and those who have taken
the veil, to travel and stay abroad as they do, coming and
going in the Roman states. They come in great numbers and
few return undefiled. For there are very few districts of
Lombardy in which there is not some [134] woman of Anglian
origin living a loose life among the Franks and the Gauls.
This is a scandal and disgrace to your whole Church....'

The difficulty of exercising more control over
those who chose to leave their settlements was only partly
met by stricter rules of supervision. For there were no means
of keeping back monk or nun who was tired of living the monastic
life. In the 8th century Hatto bishop of Basel († 836)
wrote to the bishop of Toul enjoining that no one should be
suffered to undertake a pilgrimage to Rome without leave,
and provisions of a much later date order that houses shall
not take in and harbour inmates from other settlements.

In this connection it is interesting to find
Lul, who had settled abroad with Boniface, excommunicating
an abbess Suitha because she had allowed two nuns to go into
a distant district for some secular purpose without previously
asking permission from her bishop. The women who settled in
Germany under Boniface were brought under much stricter control
than had till then been customary in either France or England.

Sect. I. Anglo-Saxon Nuns abroad.

Among the women who came to Germany and settled
there at the request of Boniface was Lioba, otherwise Leobgith,
who had been educated at Wimboume in Dorset, at no very great
distance from Nutshalling where Boniface dwelt, and who left
England between 739 and 748. She was related to him through
her mother Aebbe, and a simple and modest little letter is
extant in which she writes to Boniface and refers to her father's
death six years ago; she is her parents' only child, she says,
and would recall her mother and herself to the prelate's memory.

'This too I ask for,' she writes in this letter,
'correct the rusticity of my style and do not neglect to send
me a few words in proof of your goodwill. I have composed
the few verses which I enclose according to the rules of poetic
versification, not from pride but from a desire to cultivate
the beginnings of learning, and now I am longing for your
help. I was taught by Eadburg who unceasingly devotes herself
to this divine art.' And she adds four [135] lines of verse
addressed to God Almighty as an example of what she can do.

As mentioned above we are indebted for an account
of Lioba's life to the monk Rudolf of Fulda († 865).
From this we learn that Lioba at a tender age had been given
into the care of the abbess Tetta at Wimbourne. 'She grew
up, so carefully tended by the abbess and the sisters, that
she cared for naught but the monastery and the study of holy
writ. She was never pleased by irreverent jokes, nor did she
care for the other maidens' senseless amusements; her mind
was fixed on the love of Christ, and she was ever ready to
listen to the word of God, or to read it, and to commit to
memory what she heard and read to her own practical advantage.
In eating and drinking she was so moderate that she despised
the allurements of a great entertainment and felt content
with what was put before her, never asking for more. When
she was not reading, she was working with her hands, for she
had learnt that those who do not work have no right to eat.'

She was moreover of prepossessing appearance
and of engaging manners, and secured the goodwill of the abbess
and the affection of the inmates of the settlement. A dream
of hers is described by her biographer in which she saw a
purple thread of indefinite length issuing from her mouth.
An aged sister whom she consulted about it, interpreted the
dream as a sign of coming influence.

To Lioba, Tecla and Cynehild, Boniface addressed
a letter from abroad, asking in the usual way for the support
of their prayers. Lioba's biographer tells us that when Boniface
thought of establishing religious settlements, 'wishing that
the order of either sex should exist according to rule,' he
arranged that Sturmi, who had settled at Fulda, should go
to Italy and there visit St Benedict's monastery at Monte
Casino, and he 'sent envoys with letters to the abbess Tetta
(of Wimbourne) begging her as a comfort in his labour, and
as a help in his mission, to send over the virgin Lioba, whose
reputation for holiness and virtuous teaching had penetrated
across wide lands and filled the hearts of many with praise
of her.'

This request shows that Boniface thought highly
of the course of life and occupations practiced in English
nunneries and that he considered English women especially
suited to manage the settlements under his care. In a letter
written from Rome about 738 Boniface refers to the sisters
and brothers who are living under him in Germany. Parties
of English men and women joined him at different times. One
travelled under the priest Wiehtberht, who sent a letter to
the monks of Glastonbury to inform them of his safe arrival
and honourable reception by Boniface, and he requests that
Tetta of Wimbourne may be told of this. Perhaps Lioba, who
was Tetta's pupil, was one of the party who travelled to Germany
with Wiehtberht.

'In pursuance of his plan,' says Lioba's life,
'Boniface now arranged monastic routine and life according
to accepted rule, and set Sturmi as abbot over the monks and
the virgin Lioba as spiritual mother over the nuns, and gave
into her care a monastery at the place called Bischofsheim,
where a considerable number of servants of God were collected
together, who now followed the example of their blessed teacher,
were instructed in divine knowledge and so profited by her
teaching that several of them in their turn became teachers
elsewhere; for few monasteries of women (monasteria foeminarum)
existed in those districts where Lioba's pupils were not sought
as teachers. She (Lioba) was a woman of great power and of
such strength of purpose that she thought no more of her fatherland
and of her relations but devoted all her energies to what
she bad undertaken, that she might be blameless before God,
and a model in behaviour and discipline to all those who were
under her. She never taught what she did not practice. And
there was neither conceit nor domineering in her attitude;
she was affable and kindly without exception towards everyone.
She was as beautiful as an angel; her talk was agreeable,
her intellect was clear; her abilities were great; she was
a Catholic in faith; she was moderate in her expectations
and wide in her affections. She always showed a cheerful face
but she was never drawn into hilarity. No one ever heard a
word of abuse (maledictionem) pass her lips, and the sun never
went down on her anger. In eating and drinking she was liberal
to others but moderate herself, and the cup out of which she
usually drank was called by the sisters 'the little one of
our beloved' (dilectae parvus) on account of its smallness.
She [137] was so bent on reading that she never laid aside
her book except to pray or to strengthen her slight frame
with food and sleep. From childhood upwards she had studied
grammar and the other liberal arts, and hoped by perseverance
to attain a perfect knowledge of religion, for she was well
aware that the gifts of nature are doubled by study. She zealously
read the books of the Old and New Testaments, and committed
their divine precepts to memory; but she further added to
the rich store of her knowledge by reading the writings of
the holy Fathers, the canonical decrees, and the laws of the
Church (totiusque ecclesiastici ordinis jura). In all her
actions she showed great discretion, and thought over the
outcome of an undertaking beforehand so that she might not
afterwards repent of it. She was aware that inclination is
necessary for prayer and for study, and she was therefore
moderate in holding vigils. She always took a rest after dinner,
and so did the sisters under her, especially in summer time,
and she would not suffer others to stay up too long, for she
maintained that the mind is keener for study after sleep.'

Boniface, writing to Lioba while she was abbess
at Bischofsheim, sanctions her taking a girl into the settlement
for purposes of instruction. Bischofsheim was on the Tauber
a tributary of the river Main, and Boniface, who dwelt at
Mainz, frequently conferred with her there. Lioba went to
stay with Boniface at Mainz in 757 before he went among the
Frisians; he presented her with his cloak and begged her to
remain true to her work whatever might befall him. Shortly
after he set out on his expedition he was attacked and killed
by heathens. His corpse was brought back and buried at Fulda,
and Lioba went to pray at his grave, a privilege granted to
no other woman.

Lioba was also in contact with temporal rulers.
Karl the Great gave her presents and Queen Hildegard (†
783) was so captivated with her that she tried to persuade
her to come and live with her. 'Princes loved her,' her biographer
tells us, 'noblemen received her, and bishops gladly entertained
her and conversed with her on the scriptures and on the institutions
of religion, for she was familiar with many writings and careful
in giving advice.' She had the supervision of other settlements
besides her own and travelled about a good deal. After Boniface's
death she kept on friendly terms with Lul who had succeeded
him as bishop of Mainz (757-786), and it was with his consent
[138] that she finally resigned her responsibilities and her
post as abbess at Bischofsheim and went to dwell at Schornsheim
near Mainz with a few companions. At the request of Queen
Hildegard she once more travelled to Aachen where Karl the
Great was keeping court. But she was old, the fatigues of
the journey were too much for her, and she died shortly after
her return in 780. Boniface had expressed a wish that they
should share the same resting-place and her body was accordingly
taken to Fulda, but the monks there, for some unknown reason,
preferred burying her in another part of their church.

It is noteworthy that the women who by the
appointment of Boniface directed convent life in Germany,
remained throughout in a state of dependence, while the men,
noticeably Sturmi (I 779) whom he had made abbot at Fulda,
cast off their connection with the bishop, and maintained
the independence of their monasteries. Throughout his life
Sturmi showed a bold and determined spirit, but he was not
therefore less interesting to the nuns of Boniface's circle.
His pupil and successor Eigil wrote an account of his life
at the request of the nun Angiltrud, who is also supposed
to have come from England to Germany.

We know little concerning the other Anglo-Saxon
women who settled abroad, for there are no contemporary accounts
of them. The 'Passion of Boniface,' written at Mainz between
1000 and 1050, tells us that as Liaba settled at Bischofsheim
so Tecla settled at Kizzingen, where 'she shone like a light
in a dark place.' No doubt this Tecla is identical with the
nun of that name whom Boniface speaks of in his letter to
Lioba. She has a place among the saints, but it seems doubtful
whether she founded the monastery at Kizzingen or the one
at Oxenfurt.

The names of several other women are given
by Othlon, a monk of St Emmeran in Bavaria, who in consequence
of a quarrel fled from his monastery and sought refuge at
Fulda. While there, between 1062 and 1066, he re-wrote and
amplified Wilibald's life of Boniface. In this account he
gives a list of the men who came [139] into Germany from England,
the correctness of which has been called in question. He then
enumerates the women who came abroad and mentions 'an aunt
of Lul called Chunihilt and her daughter Berthgit, Chunitrud
and Tecla Lioba, and Waltpurgis the sister of Wilibald and
Wunebald.' The only mention of Waltpurgis is her name, but
he describes where the other women settled, some in the district
of the Main, others in Bavaria.

This woman Waltpurgis has been the subject
of many conjectures; writers generally do not hesitate to
affirm that the sister of Wunebald and Wilibald is identical
with the saint who was so widely reverenced. But St Waltpurgis,
popularly called Walburg, is associated with customs and traditions
which so clearly bear a heathen and profane character in the
Netherlands and in North Germany, that it seems improbable
that these associations should have clustered round the name
of a Christian woman and a nun.

In face of the existing evidence one of two
conclusions must be adopted. Either the sister of Wunebald
and Wilibald really bore the name Waltpurgis, and the monk
Wolfhard who wrote an account of a saint of that name whose
relics were venerated at Eichstatt (between 882 and 912) took
advantage of the coincidence of name and claimed that the
Walburg, who bears the character of a pseudo-saint, and the
sister of Wunebald and Wilibald were identical; or else, desirous
to account for the veneration of relics which were commonly
connected with the name Walburg, he found it natural and reasonable
to hold that Walburg had belonged to the circle of Boniface,
and identified her with the sister of Wunebald and Wilibald.

Nothing is preserved concerning this sister
except a reference to her existence, which is contained in
the accounts of the acts of Wilibald and Wunebald written
by a nun at Heidenheim, whose name also is not recorded. These
accounts offer many points of [140] interest. The nun who
wrote them was of Anglo-Saxon origin; her style is highly
involved and often falls short of the rules of grammar, but
she had possession of interesting information, and she was
determined to impart it. It has been noticed that her writing
varies according to whether she is setting down facts or dilating
on them; for she is concise enough when it is a question of
facts only, but when it comes to description she falls into
the spirit of Anglo-Saxon literature and introduces alliteration
into her Latin and launches forth into panegyric. She came
from England to Germany, as she tells us, shortly before the
death of Wunebald (c. 765), and experiences of an unpleasant
nature led her to expect that her writings would not pass
without criticism.

'I am but a woman,' she says, 'weak on account
of the frailty of my sex, neither supported by the prerogative
of wisdom nor sustained by the consciousness of great power,
yet impelled by earnestness of purpose,' and she sets to work
to give a description of the life of Wilibald and the journey
which he made to Palestine, parts of which she took down from
his dictation, for at the close of her account she says that
she wrote it from Wilibald's narrative in the monastery of
Heidenheim in the presence of deacons and of some of Wilibald's
pupils who were witnesses to the fact. 'This I say,' she adds,
'that no one may again declare this to be nonsense.'

The account she gives of Wilibald's experiences
contains one of the earliest descriptions written in northern
Europe of a journey to Palestine, and modern writers have
commented on it as a curious literary monument of the time.
Interest in descriptions of the Holy Land was increasing.
Besides early references to such journeys in the letters of
St Jerome who described how Paula went from Rome to Jerusalem
and settled there in the 4th century, we hear how Adamnan
came to the court of King Ealdfrith of Northumbria about the
year 701 and laid before him his book on Holy Places which
he had taken down from the narrative of bishop Arculf who
had made the pilgrimage, but of whom we know nothing more.
But Adamnan's account is bald and its interest is poor compared
to this description of the adventures of Wilibald and of what
he saw on his travels.

The nun prefaces her account of the journey
by telling us of Wilibald's origin. She describes how he fell
ill as a child, how [141] his parents vowed him to a religious
life if he were spared, and how in conformity with their promise
they took him to the abbey of Waltham at the age of five,
where Wilibald continued studying till manhood. We are not
told to what his love of travel was due. He determined to
go south and persuaded his father and his brother Wunebald
to accompany him. We hear how they and their companions took
boat and arrived at Rouen, how they travelled on till they
reached Lucca where the father fell ill and died, and how
the brothers pursued their journey to Rome where they spent
the winter. We hear how the heat and bad air of summer drove
them away from Rome and how, while Wunebald remained in Italy,
Wilibald with a few companions pushed on by way of Naples
and Reggio and reached Catania in Sicily, where he took boat
for Ephesus and Syria We get a good deal of information by
the way on saints and on relics, and hear of the veil of St
Agatha which stayed the eruptions of Mount Aetna, and of the
Seven Sleepers of Ephesus. The travellers experienced all
kinds of hardships; thrice they were cast into prison and
liberated before their feet trod on holy ground. Then they
visited Nazareth and Chana; they gazed upon Lake Tiberias,
they bathed in the river Jordan, and finally they reached
Jerusalem where they made a long stay, broken however by several
long expeditions. Each site is described in turn, and its
connection with scriptural history is pointed out. We hear
a good deal about Jerusalem, about Mount Sion, the site of
the Ascension of the Virgin, and about the site of the Nativity
at Bethlehem. It was 'once a cave, now it is a square house
cut into the rock,' over which a little chapel is built. We
also hear of various monasteries where the travellers stayed
in coming and going. Finally they travelled to Tyre, where
they took boat to Constantinople. There they made a lengthy
stay and then journeyed on to Italy and visited the Isle of
Lipari, where Wilibald desired to get a glimpse of the crater,
which is designated as hell, the thought of which called forth
a fine piece of description from the nun.

'And when they arrived there they left the
boat to see what sort of a hell it was. Wilibald especially
was curious about what was inside the crater, and would have
climbed the summit of the mountain to the opening; but he
was prevented by cinders which rose from the black gulf and
had sunk again; as snow settles falling from the sky and the
heavenly heights in white thick masses, so these cinders lay
heaped on the summit of the mountain and [142] prevented Wilibald's
ascent. But he saw a blackness and a terrible column of flame
projected upwards with a noise like thunder from the pit,
and he saw the flame and the smoky vapour rising to an immeasurable
height. He also beheld pumice-stone which writers use thrown
up from the crater with the flame, and it fell into the sea
and was again cast up on the shore; men there gathered it
up to bring it away.'

When Wilibald and his companion Tidberht reached
Rome they had been absent seven years, and their travels had
made them personages of such interest that the Pope interviewed
them. Wilibald at the Pope's suggestion agreed to join Boniface
in Germany. Wunebald, the brother whom he had left in Italy,
had met Boniface in Rome in 738 and had travelled back with
him. Wilibald also settled in Germany and was made bishop
of the new see of Eichstatt. Here he came across the nun,
who was so fired by his account of his travels that she undertook
to record them.

After she had finished this work she was moved
to write a short account of the life of Wunebald. It is written
in a similar style and contains valuable historical information,
but it has not the special interest of the other account.
Wunebald on coming into Germany had first stayed at Mainz,
then he travelled about with Boniface, and finally he settled
at Heidenheim where he made a clearance in the midst of a
wooded wilderness and dwelt there with a few younger men.
He was active in opposing idolatrous customs, but does not
appear to have been satisfied with his work. He died about
the year 765, and his brother Wilibald, bishop of Eichstatt,
and his sister, of whom mention is now made for the first
time, came to his monastery to assist at the translation of
his corpse. The sister took charge of his settlement, apparently
for a time only, for the monastery at Heidenheim continued
to be under the rule of an abbot and there is no evidence
that women belonged to it.

It was from this sister that the nun received
her information about Wunebald. The theory has been put forward
that she was the same person as a nun who came to Heidenheim
and was there miraculously cured. However that may be, this
literary nun is the last Anglo-Saxon woman of whom we have
definite information who came abroad in connection with Boniface.
Her name is lost, it is as the anonymous nun of Heidenheim
that she has come down to posterity.

IN this chapter I intend to give a description
of the different monastic orders which were founded between
the 10th and the 12th centuries, and to enter at some length
into the reasons for their progress. A mass of heterogeneous
information must be passed in rapid review with occasional
digressions on outside matters, for it is only possible to
understand the rapid progress of monasticism by recalling
the relation in which it stood to other social developments.

As we cross the borderland which divides the
centuries before the year 1000 from the period that follows,
we become aware of great changes which about this time take
definite shape throughout all social institutions. In the
various strata of society occupations were becoming more clearly
differentiated than they had ever been before, while those
who were devoted to peaceful pursuits, whether in lay or religious
circles, were now combined together for mutual support and
encouragement.

In connection with religion we find the representatives
of the Church and of monasticism becoming more and more conscious
of differences that were growing up between them. Monasticism
from its very beginning practically lay outside the established
order of the Church, but this had not prevented bishop and
abbot from working side by side and mutually supporting each
other; nay, it even happened sometimes that one person combined
in himself the two offices of abbot and bishop. But as early
Christian times passed into the Middle Ages, prelates ceased
to agree with headquarters [185] at Rome in accepting monasticism
as the means of securing a foothold for religion. The Church
was now well established throughout western Europe, and her
ministers were by no means prepared to side unconditionally
with the Pope when he fell out with temporal rulers. The monastic
orders on the contrary generally did side with him, and by
locally furthering his interests, they became strongholds
of his power.

The l2th century has been called the golden
age of monasticism, because it witnessed the increased prosperity
of existing monasteries and the foundation of a number of
new monastic and religious orders. A wave of enthusiasm for
the life of the religious settlement, and for the manifold
occupations which this life now embraced, passed over western
Europe, emanating chiefly from France, the country which took
the lead in culture and in civilizing influences.

The l2th century, as it was the golden age
of monasticism, was also the golden age of chivalry; the cloister
and the court were the representative centres of civilized
life. Under the influence of the system of mutual responsibility
called feudalism, the knight by doughty deed and unwavering
allegiance to his lord, his lady and his cause, gave a new
meaning to service; while the monk, devoted to less hazardous
pursuits, gave a hitherto unknown sanctification to toil.
The knight, the lady, the court-chaplain and the court-poet
cultivated the bearings and the formalities of polite intercourse
which formed the background of the age of romance, while in
the cloister the monk and the nun gave a new meaning to religious
devotion and enthusiasm by turning their activity into channels
which first made possible the approximation of class to class.

This period knew little of townships as centres
of intellectual activity, and their social importance remained
far below that of cloister and court. The townsmen, whose
possession of town land constituted them burghers, had won
for themselves recognition as an independent body by buying
immunities and privileges from bishop and king. But the struggle
between them and the newer gilds, into which those who were
below them in rank and wealth, formed themselves, was only
beginning; the success of these newer gilds in securing a
share in the government marks the rise of the township.

The diversity of occupation in the different
kinds of gilds was anticipated by a similar diversity of occupation
in the different monastic orders. The great characteristic
of the monastic revival of the Middle Ages lay in the manifold
and distinct spheres of [186] activity which life offered
inside the religious community. The studious, the educational,
the philanthropic, and the agricultural element, all to some
extent made part of the old monastic system. But through the
foundation of a number of different orders which from the
outset had separate aims, tastes which were widely dissimilar,
and temperaments that were markedly diverse, met with encouragement
in the religious settlement. The scholar, the artist, the
recluse, the farmer, each found a career open to him; while
men and women were prompted to undertake duties within and
without the religious settlement which make their activity
comparable to that of the relieving officer, the poor-law
guardian and the district nurse of a later age.

To gain a clear idea of the purposes which
the new monastic and religious orders set before them, it
will be best to treat of them severally in the chronological
order of their foundation. Two lines of development are to
be observed. There are the strictly monastic orders which
sprang from the order of St Benedict, which they developed
and amplified. These included the orders of Clugni, Citeaux,
Chartreuse, and Grandmont, of which the last two took no account
of women. On the other side stand the religious orders which
are the outcome of distinctions drawn between different kinds
of canons, when the settlements of regular canons take a distinctly
monastic colouring. Among these the Premonstrant and the Austin
orders are the most important, the members of which, from
the clothes they wore, were in England called respectively
White and Black Canons.

The importance of canonical orders, so far
as women are concerned, lies in the fact that the 12th century
witnessed the foundation of a number of religious settlements
for both sexes, in which the men lived as canons and the women
as nuns. The Premonstrant began as a combined order; the orders
of Fontevraud and of St Gilbert of Sempringham were of a similar
kind. Bearing these distinctions in mind, we begin our enquiry
with an analysis of the Cluniac and the Cistercian orders,
which have their root directly in the monasticism of St Benedict.

As remarks in the previous chapters of this
work will have shown, monasteries had sprung up during early
Christian times independently of each other following a diversity
of rules promulgated by various teachers, which had gradually
been given up in favour of the rule of St Benedict. At the
beginning of the 9th century this rule was largely prevalent
in monasteries [187] abroad, owing to councils held under
the auspices of Karl the Great († 814), and in England
it gained ground through the efforts of Aethelwold, abbot
of Abingdon and bishop of Winchester († 984). Some obscurity
hangs about the subject, for a certain number of houses abroad,
and among them some of the oldest and wealthiest, clung to
the prerogative of independence and refused to accept St Benedict's
rule, while in England, where this rule was certainly accepted
in the 11th century, great diversity of routine either remained
or else developed inside the different houses. This is evident
from the account which Matthew Paris († 1259), a monk
of St Albans, gives of the visitation of houses in the year
1232.

The order of Clugni owes its origin to the
desire of obviating a difficulty. As time wore on the rule
of St Benedict had betrayed a weakness in failing to maintain
any connection between separate monasteries. As there was
no reciprocal responsibility between Benedictine settlements,
a lay nobleman had frequently been appointed abbot through
princely interference, and had installed himself in the monastery
with his family, his servants and his retinue, to the detriment
of the monastic property, and to the relaxation of discipline
among the monks. The evil was most conspicuous abroad in the
eastern districts of France and the western districts of Germany,
and in Go the order of Clugni was founded in Burgundy as a
means of remedying it.

At first the order of Clugni was the object
of great enthusiasm, and it was raised to eminence by a series
of remarkable and energetic men. Powerful patrons were secured
to it, master-minds found protection in its shelter. The peculiarities
of its organization consisted in the two rules that the abbot
of the Cluniac house should be chosen during the lifetime
of his predecessor, and that the abbots of different houses
should meet periodically at a synod at which the abbot of
Clugni should preside. The Pope's sanction having been obtained,
the order remained throughout in close contact with Rome.
In Germany especially this connection was prominent, and became
an important political factor in the lath century when the
Cluniac houses directly supported the claim of Rome in the
struggle between Pope and Emperor.

The order of Clugni took slight cognizance
of women, and the [188] nunneries of the order were few and
comparatively unimportant. A reason for this may be found
in the nature of the order's origin, for the settlements of
nuns had not been interfered with like the settlements of
monks during the gth and Both centuries by the appointment
of lay superiors, and were untouched by the consequent evils.
If this be so the falling away from discipline, which called
for correction in many houses of men, may justly be referred
to a change thrust on them from without, not born from within.

In England the order of Clugni was not officially
introduced till after the Norman Conquest, and then under
circumstances which set a peculiar stamp on it. The seed which
each order scattered broadcast over the different countries
was the same, but the nature of the soil in which it took
root, and the climate under which it developed, modified the
direction of its growth.

During the 9th and 10th centuries England had
been the scene of great social and political changes. The
powerful kings who arose in Wessex and eventually claimed
supremacy over all the provinces were unable to assert their
authority to the extent of making the eastern provinces sink
all provincial differences and jealousies, and join in organised
resistance to the Danes. From the 9th century onwards, the
entire seaboard of England, from Northumberland to the mouth
of the Severn, had been exposed to the depredations of this
people. Having once gained a foothold on the eastern coasts
they quickly contracted alliances and adapted themselves to
English customs, thus making their ultimate success secure.

The heathen invaders were naturally indifferent
to the teachings of the Christian Church, and to the privileges
of monasteries, and the scant annals of the period written
before Knut of Denmark became king of England in 1016, give
accounts of the destruction of many settlements. Some were
attacked and laid waste, and others were deserted by their
inmates. To realise the collapse of Christian institutions
about this time, one must read the address which Wulfstan,
archbishop of York (1002-1023), wrote to rouse the English
to consciousness of the indignities to which their religion
was exposed. But the collapse was only temporary bishoprics
and abbacies stood firm enough to command the attention of
the invader, and as the heathenism of the Dane yielded without
a blow to the teaching of Christ, the settlements that were
in the hands of abbot and monk rose anew.

[189] However, it was only after the establishment
of William of Normandy in England (1066) that the conditions
of life became settled, and that the tide turned in favour
of monasticism; that is to say in favour of the monastic life
of men, but not of women. Various reasons have been alleged
for this difference: that the better position of the wife
under Danish rule made women loth to remain in the convent,
or that the spread of the system of feudal tenure excluded
women from holding property which they could devote to the
advantage of their sex. So much is certain, that during the
reign of William many Benedictine houses for monks were founded
or restored, but we do not hear of one for nuns.

In the wake of the Norman baron, the Norman
prelate had entered this country, bringing with him an interest
in the order of Clugni. It was William of Warren, son-in-law
of the Conqueror, and earl of Surrey, who first brought over
Cluniac monks, whom he settled at I ewes in Sussex. He did
so at the suggestion of Lanfranc, a Norman monk of Italian
origin, who had become archbishop of Canterbury (1070-1089).
Before the close of William's reign Cluniac monks had met
with patrons to build them four monasteries on English soil
besides the house at Lewes.

The Norman barons continued to make liberal
endowments to the order, but its popularity remained comparatively
small, partly owing to the distinctly foreign character which
it continued to bear'. Thus we find that after the accession
of Henry II (1154), whose reign was marked by a rise in English
national feeling, only one Cluniac house was added to those
already in existence.

From the order of Clugni we pass to that of
Citeaux, the foundation of which comes next in point of time,
but which owed its existence to a different cause, and was
characterized by widely dissimilar developments.

The story of the foundation of the order has
been fully told by men who were under the influence of the
movement; the facts only of the foundation need be mentioned
here. It originated in France when Robert, abbot of Molemes,
roused by the remonstrances of one Stephen Harding, an English
monk living in his convent, left his home with a band of followers
in logs, in search of a retreat where they might carry out
the rule of St Benedict in a worthier spirit. They found this
retreat at Citeaux. From Citeaux and [190] its daughter-house
Clairvaux, founded in 1113 by the energetic Bernard, those
influences went forth which made the Cistercian order representative
of the most strenuous devotion to toil and the most exalted
religious aspirations. While the order of Clugni in the 10th
century secured the outward conditions favourable to a life
of routine, devoting this routine chiefly to literary and
artistic pursuits, the reform of Citeaux exerted a much wider
influence. It at once gained extensive local and national
sympathy, by cultivating land and by favouring every kind
of outdoor pursuit.

The agricultural activity of the Cistercian
has called forth much enthusiastic comment. Janauschek, a
modern student of the order, describes in eloquent terms how
they turned woods into fields, how they constructed water-conduits
and water-mills, how they cultivated gardens, orchards, and
vineyards, how successful they were in rearing cattle, in
breeding horses, in keeping bees, in regulating fishing, and
how they made glass and procured the precious metals.

A comparison of their temper and that of the
Cluniacs offers many interesting points; a comparison which
is facilitated by a dialogue written by a Cistercian monk
between 1154 and 1174 to exalt the merits of his order compared
with those of the order of Clugni. For while the Cluniac delighted
in luxurious surroundings, the Cistercian affected a simple
mode of life which added to the wealth placed at his disposal
by his untiring industry. While the Cluniac delighted in costly
church decorations in sumptuous vestments and in richly illuminated
books of service the Cistercian declared such pomp prejudicial
to devotion, and sought to elevate the soul not so much by
copying and ornamenting old books as by writing new ones;
not so much by decorating a timehonoured edifice as by rearing
a new and beautiful building.

Perhaps the nature of these occupations yields
a reason why the Cistercian order at first found no place
for women. At an early date Cardinal de Vitry (Jacobus di
Vitriaco, † 1144), writing about the Cistercian movement,
says that 'the weaker sex at the rise of the order could not
aspire to conform to such severe rules nor to rise to such
a pitch of excellence.' In the dialogue referred to above,
the Cluniac expresses wonder that women should enter the Cistercian
order at all.

[191] The first Cistercian nunneries were founded
at Tart in Langres and at Montreuil-les-Dames near Laon. Hermann
of Laon (c. 1150) describes 'how the religious of Montreuil
sewed and span, and went into the woods where they grubbed
up briars and thorns,'-- an occupation which goes far to equalise
their activity with that of the monks. In Switzerland and
Germany there is said to have been a pronounced difference
in the character of Cistercian nunneries, due to the various
conditions of their foundation. Some were aristocratic in
tone, while others consisted of women of the middle class,
who banded together and placed themselves under the bishop
of the diocese, following of their own accord the rules accepted
by the monks of Citeaux.

In Spain a curious development of the order
of Citeaux is recorded, fraught with peculiarities which recall
earlier developments.

In 1187 Alfonso VIII, king of Leon and Castille,
founded an abbacy for nuns of the order of Citeaux at Las
Huelgas near Burgos, the abbess of which was declared head
over twelve other nunneries. In the following year the king
sent the bishop of Siguenza to the general chapter at Citeaux
to obtain leave for the abbesses of his kingdom to hold a
general chapter among themselves. This was granted. At the
first chapter at Burgos the bishops of Burgos, Siguenza and
Placenza were assembled together with six abbots and seven
abbesses, each abbess being entitled to bring with her six
servants and five horses. The power of the abbess of Las Huelgas
continued to increase. In the year 1210 she had taken upon
herself the discharge of sacerdotal functions. In the year
1260 she refused to receive the abbot of Citeaux, whereupon
she was excommunicated. After the year 1507 the abbess was
no longer appointed for life, but for a term of three years
only. Chapters continued to be held under her auspices at
Burgos till the Council of Trent in 1545, which forbade women
to leave their enclosures.

The date of the first arrival of monks of Citeaux
in England was 1128, when William Giffard, bishop of Winchester
(† 1129), in early days a partisan of Anselm against
Henry I, founded [192] Waverley in Surrey for them. Shortly
afterwards Walter Espec, the most powerful baron in northern
England, granted them land at Rievaulx in Yorkshire. About
the same time the foundation at Fountains repeated the story
of Citeaux. A small band of monks, burning with the desire
to simplify conventual life, left York and retired into the
wooded solitude of Fountains, whence they sent to Bernard
at Clairvaux asking for his advice.

These events fall within the reign of Henry
I (1100-1135), the peacefulness of which greatly furthered
the development of monastic life. The pursuits to which the
Cistercians were devoted in England were similar to those
they carried on abroad. Here also their agricultural successes
were great, for they ditched, ridged and drained, wet land,
they marled stiff soils and clayed poor ones. The land granted
to them, especially in the northern counties was none of the
best, but they succeeded in turning wildernesses into fruitful
land, and by so doing won great admiration. Similarly the
churches built in this country under the auspices of these
monks bear witness to great purity of taste and ardent imagination.
The churches built by them were all dedicated to the Virgin
Mary, who was the patron saint of the order.

All these early settlements of the Cistercian
order were for monks, not for nuns, for Cistercian nunneries
in England were founded comparatively late and remained poor
and unimportant. If we look upon the Cistercians as farmers,
builders and writers, this fact is partly explained. But there
are other reasons which suggest why the number of Cistercian
nunneries was at first small, and why the Cistercian synod
shrank from accepting control over them.

Convents of women had hitherto been recruited
by the daughters of the landed gentry, and their tone was
aristocratic; but a desire for the religious life had now
penetrated into the lower strata of society. Orders of combined
canons and nuns were founded which paid special attention
to women of the lower classes, but they encountered certain
difficulties in dealing with them. It is just possible on
the one hand that the combined orders forestalled the Cistercians
in the inducements they held out; on the other, that the experience
of the combined orders made the Cistercians cautious about
admitting women.

[193] Consideration of these facts brings us
back to a whole group of phenomena to which reference was
made in a previous chapter, viz. the disorderly tendencies
which had become apparent in connection with loose women,
the greater opprobrium cast on these women as time went on,
and the increasing difficulties they had to contend with.
The founders of the orders of combined canons and nuns tried
to save women from drifting into and swelling a class, the
existence of which was felt to be injurious to social life,
by preaching against a dissolute life and by receiving all
persons into their settlements regardless of their antecedents.

The earliest and in many ways the most interesting
of these combined orders is that founded by Robert (†
1117) of Arbrissel, a village in Brittany. Robert had begun
life in the Church, but he left the clerical calling on account
of his great desire to minister to the needs of the lower
classes, and as a wandering preacher he gained Considerable
renown. Men and women alike were roused by his words to reform
their course of life, and they followed him about till he
determined to secure for them a permanent abode. This he found
in an outlying district at Fontevraud. He organised his followers
into bands and apportioned to each its task. The men were
divided into clerics, who performed religious service, and
lay brothers, who did outdoor work. 'They were to use gentle
talk, not to swear, and all to be joined in brotherly affection.'
It appears that the women were all professed nuns; unceasing
toil was to be their portion, for they were to hold the industrious
and hardworking Martha as their model and take small account
of such virtues as belonged to Mary.

From every side workers flocked to the settlements,
for Robert opened his arms to all. We are told that 'men of
all conditions came, women arrived, such as were poor as well
as those of gentle birth; widows and virgins, aged men and
youths, women of loose life as well as those who held aloof
from men.' At first there was a difficulty in providing for
the numerous settlers, but their labours brought profit, and
gifts in kind poured in from outsiders, a proof that in the
eyes of the world the settlements supplied an obvious need.
Branch establishments were founded and prospered, so that
in one cloister there were as many as three hundred women,
in [194] another one hundred, and in another sixty. Robert
returned to his missionary work, after having appointed Hersende
of Champagne as lady superior of the whole vast settlement.
Her appointment was decisive for the system of government,--Fontevraud
remained under the rule of an abbess. It was for her successor,
Petronille, that the life of the founder Robert was written
soon after his death, by Baldric, bishop of Dol († 1130).
Baldric repeatedly insists on the fact that no one was refused
admission to these settlements. 'The poor were received, the
feeble were not refused, nor women of evil life, nor sinners,
neither lepers nor the helpless.' We are told that Robert
attracted nearly three thousand men and women to the settlements;
the nuns (ancillae Christi) in particular wept at his death.

The fact that Robert had the welfare of women
especially at heart is further borne out by a separate account
of the last years of his life, written by one Andrea, probably
his pupil. Andrea tells how Robert at the approach of death
assembled the canons or clerics of the settlement around him
and addressed them saying: 'Know that whatever I have wrought
in this world I have wrought as a help to nuns.' Fontevraud
occupied a high standing, and we shall find that nuns were
brought thence into England when the nunnery of Amesbury was
reformed in the reign of King John. The order of Fontevraud
made great progress in the course of the 12th century, and
next to it in point of time stands the foundation of the order
of Prémontré. Fontevraud lies in the north-west
of France, Prémontré in the east, and the efforts
of Robert have here a counterpart in those of Norbert (†
1134), who worked on similar lines. Norbert also left the
clerical calling to work as a missionary in north-western
Germany, especially in Westphalia, and he also succeeded in
rousing his listeners to a consciousness of their ungodly
mode of life. With a view to reform he sought to give a changed
tone to canonical life and founded a religious settlement
in the forest of Coucy, which he afterwards called Prémontré
from the belief that the Virgin had pointed it out to him.
His efforts were likewise crowned with success, for many settlements
were forthwith founded on the plan of that of Prémontré.
Hermann of Laon, the contemporary of Norbert, praises him
warmly and remarks that women of all classes flocked to his
settlements, and were admitted into the communities by adopting
the cloistered life. [195] The statement is made, but may
be exaggerated, that ten thousand women joined the order during
Norbert's lifetime.

Norbert differed greatly in character from
Robert; his personal ambition was greater, and his restless
temperament eventually drew him into political life. He died
in 1134, and in 1137 the chapter at Prémontré
decided that the women should be expelled from all the settlements
that had inmates of both sexes, and that no nuns should henceforth
be admitted to settlements ruled by men. The reasons which
led to this resolution are not recorded. The nuns thus rendered
homeless are said to have banded together and dwelt in settlements
which were afterwards numbered among Cistercian houses, thus
causing a sudden increase of nunneries of this order. However
a certain number of Premonstrant houses, occupied solely by
nuns and ruled by a lady superior, existed previous to the
decree of 1137. These remained unmolested, and others were
added to them in course of time. It can be gathered from a
bull of 1344 that there were at that time over thirteen hundred
settlements of Premonstrant or White Canons in existence in
Europe, besides the outlying settlements of lay brothers,
and about four hundred settlements of nuns. The settlements
of White Canons in England amounted to about thirty-five and
were founded after the sexes had been separated. There were
also two settlements of Premonstrant nuns in England.

A third order of canons and nuns, which in
various ways is akin to the orders of Fontevraud and Prémontré
previously founded abroad, was founded at the beginning of
the 12th century in England by Gilbert of Sempringham. But
as the material for study of this order is copious, and as
it marks a distinct development in the history of women's
convent life in England, it will be discussed in detail later.

The canons who belonged to the combined orders
were regular canons, that is they owned no individual property,
and further differed from secular canons in holding themselves
exempt from performing spiritual functions for the laity.
Erasmus at a later date remarked that 'their life is half
way between that of monks and that of those who are called
secular canons.'

[196] As to the distinction between the two
kinds, it appears that bands of canons who may fitly be termed
regular had existed from an early period; but the subject
is shrouded in some obscurity. In the 11th century mention
of them becomes frequent, especially in France, and at the
beginning of the l2th century their position was defined by
a decree published by Pope Innocent II at the Lateran Council
(1139). By this decree all those canons who did not perform
spiritual functions for the laity were designated as regular
and were called upon to live according to the rule of life
laid down by St Augustine in his Epistle, number 109. The
terms Austin canon and regular canon were henceforth applied
indiscriminately, but many independent settlements of unrecognised
canons of an earlier date have since been included under this
term.

A few words are here needed in explanation
of the term canoness or Austin canoness, which is used in
diverse ways, but is generally applied to women of some substance,
who entered a religious community and lived under a rule,
but who were under no perpetual vow, that is, they observed
obedience and celibacy as long as they remained in the house
but were at liberty to return to the world. These stipulations
do not imply that a woman on entering a convent renounced
all rights of property, an assumption on the strength of which
the Church historian Rohrbacher interprets as applying to
canonesses the entire chapter of directions promulgated at
Aachen in 816, in the interest of women living the religious
life. But the terms used in these provisions are the ordinary
ones applied to abbess and nun. Helyot, who has a wider outlook,
and who speaking of the canon explains how this term was at
first applied to all living in canone, points out that
uncertainty hangs about many early settlements of women abroad,
the members of which were in the true sense professed. It
seems probable that they at first observed the rule of St
Benedict, and afterwards departed from it, as has been pointed
out above in connection with Saxon convents.

The tenor of the provisions made at Aachen
shows that the monastic life of women in a number of early
settlements abroad rested on a peculiar basis, and points
to the fact that the inmates [197] of settlements founded
at an early date were in some measure justified when they
declared later that they had always held certain liberties,
and insisted on a distinction between themselves and other
nuns. The position of the imnates of some of these houses
continued different from that of the members of other nunneries
till the time of the Reformation. In England, however, this
difference does not seem to have existed. The inmates of the
few Austin nunneries, of which there were fifteen at the dissolution,
though they are frequently spoken of as canonesses in the
charters that are secured by them, appear to have lived a
life in no way different from that of other nuns, while they
were in residence, but it may be they absented themselves
more frequently.

When once their position was defined the spread
of the Austin Canons was rapid; they combined the learning
of the Benedictine with the devotional zeal of the Cistercian,
and ingratiated themselves with high and low. Of all the settlements
of the Austin Canons abroad that of St Victor in Paris stands
first in importance. It became a retreat for some of the master
minds of the age, and its influence on English thinkers was
especially great. Austin Canons came from France into England
as early as 1108 At first their activity here was chiefly
philanthropic, they founded hospitals and served in them;
but they soon embraced a variety of interests. In the words
of Kate Norgate speaking with reference to England: 'The scheme
of Austin Canons was a compromise between the old-fashioned
system of canons and that of monkish confraternities; but
a compromise leaning strongly towards the monastic side, tending
'more and more towards it with every fresh development, and
distinguished chiefly by a certain elasticity of organization
which gave scope to an almost unlimited variety in the adjustment
of the relations between the active and the contemplative
life of the members of the order, thus enabling it to adapt
itself to the most dissimilar temperaments and to the most
diverse spheres of activity.'

Their educational system also met with such
success that before the close of the reign of Henry I two
members of the fraternity had been promoted to the episcopate
and one to the primacy. In the remarks of contemporary writers
on religious settlements, it is curious to note in what a
different estimation regular canons and [198] monks are held
by those who shared the interests of court circles. For the
courtier, as we shall presently see, sympathised with the
canon but abused and ridiculed the monk.

Throughout the early Christian ages the idea
had been steadily gaining ground that the professed religious
should eschew contact with the outside world, and it was more
and more urged that the moral and mental welfare of monk and
nun was furthered by their confining their activity within
the convent precincts. Greater seclusion was first enforced
among women; for in the combined orders the nuns remained
inside the monastery, and were removed from contact with the
world, while the canons were but little restricted in their
movements. How soon habitual seclusion from the world became
obligatory it is of course very difficult to determine, but
there is extant a highly interesting pamphlet, written about
the year 1190 by the monk Idung of the Benedictine monastery
of St Emmeran in Bavaria, which shows that professed religious
women in the district he was acquainted with went about as
freely as the monks, and did not even wear a distinctive dress.
The pamphlet is the more interesting as Idung was evidently
distressed by the behaviour of the nuns, but failed to find
an authority on which to oppose their actions. He admits that
the rule as drafted by St Benedict is intended alike for men
and women, and that there are no directions to be found in
it about confining nuns in particular, and in fact the rule
allowed monks and nuns to go abroad freely as long as their
superior approved. Idung then sets forth with many arguments
that nuns are the frailer vessel; and he illustrates this
point by a mass of examples adduced from classical and Biblical
literature. He proves to himself the advisability of nuns
being confined, but he is at a loss where to go for the means
of confining them. And he ends his pamphlet with the advice
that as it is impossible to interfere with the liberty of
nuns, it should at least be obligatory for them when away
from home to wear clothes which would make their vocation
obvious.

No doubt the view held by this monk was shared
by others, and public opinion fell in with it, and insisted
on the advantages of seclusion. Many Benedictine houses owned
outlying manors which were often at a considerable distance,
and the management of which required a good deal of moving
about on the part of the monks and nuns who were told off
for the purpose. We shall see later that those who had taken
the religious vow had pleasure as their object [199] as much
as business in going about; but complaints about the Benedictines
of either sex are few compared with those raised against the
Cistercian monks. For the Cistercians in their capacity of
producers visited fairs and markets and, where occasion offered,
were ready to drive a bargain, which was especially objected
to by the ministers of the Church, who declared that the Cistercians
lowered the religious profession in general estimation. Consequently
orders which worked on opposite lines enjoyed greater favour
with the priesthood; such as the monastic order of Grandmont,
which originally demanded of its members that they should
not quit their settlement and forbade their owning any animals
except bees; and the order of Chartreuse, which confined each
monk to his cell, that is, to a set of rooms with a garden
adjoining. But these orders did not secure many votaries owing
to their severity and narrowness.

Thus at the close of the 12th century
a number of new religious orders had been founded which spread
from one country to another by means of an effective system
of organization, raising enthusiasm for the peaceful pursuits
of convent life among all classes of society. The reason of
their success lay partly in their identifying themselves with
the ideal aspirations of the age, partly in the political
unrest of the time which favoured the development of independent
institutions, but chiefly in the diversity of occupation which
the professed religious life now offered. The success obtained
by the monastic orders however did not fail to rouse apprehension
among the representatives of the established Church, and it
seems well in conclusion to turn and recall some of the remarks
passed on the new orders by contemporary writers who moved
in the court of Henry II (1154-89).

It has been pointed out how the sympathies
of court circles at this period in England were with the Church
as represented by the priesthood; courtier and priest were
at one in their antagonism against monks, but in sympathy
with the canons. Conspicuous among these men stands Gerald
Barri (c. 1147-c. 1220), a Welshman of high abilities and
at one time court chaplain to the king. He hated all monkish
orders equally, and for the delectation of some friends whom
he entertained at Oxford he compiled a collection of monkish
scandals known as 'The Mirror of the Church,' in which he
represents the Cluniac monk as married to Luxury, and the
Cistercian monk to Avarice; but, in spite of this, incidental
remarks in the stories he [200] tells give a high opinion
of the Cistercian's industry, hospitality and unbounded charity.
Gerald mentions as a subject for ridicule that the Cistercian
monk lived not on rent, but on the produce of his labour,
an unaristocratic proceeding which was characteristic of the
order. Gerald's attitude is reflected in that of Ralph de
Glanvil († 1190), justiciar of England during the reign
of Henry II, a clever and versatile man of whom we know, through
his friend Map, that he disliked all the monkish orders. But
his enthusiasm for religious settlements was not inconsiderable,
and several settlements of the Premonstrant or White Canons
were founded by him.

The student of the period is familiar with
the likes and dislikes of Walter Map († c. 1210), great
among poets and writers of the age, who disliked all monks,
but especially the Cistercians. His friend Gerald tells how
this hatred had originated in the encroachments made by the
monks of Newenham on the rights and property of the church
he held at Westbury. For the perseverance with which Cistercian
monks appropriated all available territory and interfered
with the rights of church and chapel, made them generally
odious to the ministers of the Church; their encroachments
were an increasing grievance. John of Salisbury, afterwards
bishop of Chartres († after 1180), directly censured
as pernicious the means taken by the monks to extend their
power. He tells us they procured from Rome exemption from
diocesan jurisdiction, they appropriated the right of confession,
they performed burial rites; in short they usurped the keys
of the Church. By the side of these remarks it is interesting
to recall the opinion of the monkish historian, William of
Malmesbury, who a generation earlier had declared that the
Cistercian monks had found the surest road to heaven.

All these writers, though lavish in their criticisms
on monks, tell us hardly anything against nuns. The order
of St Gilbert for canons and nuns alone calls forth some remarks
derogatory to the women. Nigel Wirecker, himself a monk, giving
vent to his embittered spirit against Church and monkish institutions
generally in the satire of Brunellus, launches into a fierce
attack against the tone which then prevailed in women's settlements.
He does not think it right that women whose antecedents are
of the worst kind should adopt the religious profession and
that as a means of preserving chastity they should systematically
enjoin hatred of men.

[201] A similar reference is contained in the
poem in Norman French called the 'Order of Fair Ease,' which
is a production of the 13th century, and which caricatures
the different religious orders by feigning an order that unites
the characteristic vices of all. It is chiefly curious in
the emphasis it lays on the exclusiveness of monasteries generally,
representing them as reserved for the aristocracy. It contains
little on nunneries and only a few remarks which are derogatory
to the combined order of Sempringham.

These remarks were obviously called forth by
the fact that the combined orders in particular admitted women
from different ranks of life. For generally nunneries and
their inmates enjoyed favour with churchman and courtier,
whose contempt for the monk does not extend to the nun. In
the correspondence of Thomas Beket, John of Salisbury, Peter
of Blois and others there are letters to nuns of various houses
which show that these men had friends and relatives among
the inmates of nunneries. Indeed where members of the same
family adopted the religious profession, the son habitually
entered the Church while the daughter entered a nunnery. A
sister of Thomas Beket was abbess at Barking, and various
princesses of the royal house were abbesses of nunneries,
as we shall presently see. They included Mary, daughter of
Stephen (Romsey); a natural daughter of Henry II (Barking),
and Matilda, daughter of Edward I (Amesbury); Queen Eleanor
wife of Henry III also took the veil at Amesbury.

Section II. Benedictine Convents in the
Twelfth Century.

From this general review of the different orders
we pass on to the state of nunneries in England during the
12th century, and to those incidents in their history which
give some insight into their constitution.

Attention is first claimed by the old Benedictine
settlements which still continued in prosperity and independence.
Of these houses only those which were in connection with the
royal house of Wessex remained at the close of the loth century;
those of the northern and midland districts had disappeared.
Some were deserted, others had been laid waste during the
Danish invasions; it has been observed that with the return
of tranquillity under Danish rule, not one of the houses for
women was restored. Secular monks or laymen took possession
of them, and [202] when they were expelled, the Church claimed
the land, or the settlement was restored to the use of monks.
Some of the great houses founded and ruled by women in the
past were thus appropriated to men. Whitby and Ely rose in
renewed splendour under the rule of abbots; Repton, Wimbourne
and numerous other nunneries became the property of monks.

Various reasons have been given for the comparatively
low ebb at which women's professed religious life remained
for a time. Insecurity during times of warfare, and displacement
of the centres of authority, supply obvious reasons for desertion
and decay. A story is preserved showing how interference from
without led to the disbanding of a nunnery. The Danish earl
Swegen († 1052), son of Earl Godwin, took away (vi abstractam)
the abbess Eadgifu of Leominster in Herefordshire in Doe,
and kept her with him for a whole year as his wife. The archbishop
of Canterbury and the bishop of Worcester threatened him with
excommunication, whereupon he sent her home, avenging himself
by seizing lands of the monastery of Worcester. He then fled
from England and was outlawed, but at a later period he is
said to have wanted the abbess back. The result is not recorded,
for Leominster as a women's settlement ceased to exist about
this time. There is no need to imagine a formal dissolution
of the settlement. The voluntary or involuntary absence of
the abbess in times of warfare supplies quite a sufficient
reason for the disbanding of the nuns.

About the same time a similar fate befell the
monastery of Berkley-on-Severn, in spite of the heroic behaviour
of its abbess. The story is told by Walter Map how it was
attacked and plundered at the instigation of Earl Godwin (†
1053) and how in spite of the stand made by the abbess, a
'strong and determined ' woman, the men who took possession
of it turned it into a 'pantheon, a very temple of harlotry.'
Berkley also ceased to exist.

The monasteries ruled by women, which survived
the political changes due to the Danish invasion and the Norman
Conquest, had been in connection with women of the house of
Cerdic; with hardly an exception they were situated in the
province of Wessex [203] within the comparatively small area
of Dorset, Wilts, and Hampshire. Chief among them were Shaftesbury,
Amesbury, Wilton (or Ellandune), Romsey, and St Mary Winchester
(or Nunnaminster). With these must be classed Barking in Essex,
one of the oldest settlements in the land, which had been
deserted at one time but was refounded by King Edgar, and
which together with the Wessex nunneries, carried on a line
of uninterrupted traditions from the 9th century to the time
of the dissolution.

The manors owned by these settlements at the
time of the Conquest lay in different shires, often at a considerable
distance from the monastery itself.

From the account of survey in the Domesday
book we gather that Shaftesbury had possessions in Sussex,
Wiltshire, Dorset, and Hampshire, and that Nunnaminster owned
manors in Hampshire, Berkshire, and Wiltshire. Barking, the
chief property of which lay in Essex, also held manors in
Surrey, Middlesex, Berkshire, and Bedfordshire.

These monasteries were abbacies, as indeed
were all houses for nuns founded before the Conquest. The
abbess, like the abbot, had the power of a bishop within the
limits of her own house and bore a crazier as a sign of her
rank. Moreover the abbesses of Shaftesbury, Wilton, Barking,
and Nunnaminster 'were of such quality that they held of the
king by an entire barony,' and by right of tenure had the
privilege at a later date of being summoned to parliament,
though this lapsed on account of their sex.

The abbess as well as the abbot had a twofold
income; she drew spiritualities from the churches which were
in her keeping, and temporalities by means of her position
as landlord and landowner. The abbess of Shaftesbury, who
went by the title of abbess of St Edward, had in her gift
several prebends, or portions of the appropriated tithes or
lands for secular priests. In the reign of Henry I she found
seven knights for the king's service, and had writs regularly
directed to her to send her quota of soldiers into the field
in proportion to her knights' fees; she held her own courts
for pleas of debts, etc., the perquisites of which belonged
to her.

To look through the cartularies of some of
the old monasteries, [204] is to realise how complex were
the duties which devolved on the ruler of one of these settlements,
and they corroborate the truth of the remark that the first
requirement for a good abbot was that he should have a head
for business. Outlying manors were in the hands of bailiffs
who managed them, and the house kept a clerk who looked after
its affairs in the spiritual courts; for the management and
protection of the rights and privileges of the property claimed
unceasing care.

The Benedictine abbesses do not seem to have
been wanting in business and managing capacity. At the time
of the dissolution the oldest nunneries in the land with few
exceptions were also the wealthiest. The wealth of some was
notorious. A saying was current in the western provinces that
if the abbot of Glastonbury were to marry the abbess of Shaftesbury,
their heir would have more land than the king of England.
The reason of this wealth lies partly in the fact that property
had been settled on them at a time when land was held as a
comparatively cheap commodity; but it speaks well for the
managing capacities of those in authority that the high standing
was maintained. The rulers prevented their property from being
wasted or alienated during the 12th and 13th centuries, when
the vigour or decline of an institution so largely depended
on the capacity of the individual representing it, and they
continued faithful to their traditions by effecting a compromise
during the 14th and 15th centuries, when the increased powers
of the Church and the consolidation of the monarchical power
threatened destruction to institutions of the kind.

It is worthy of attention that while all nunneries
founded during Anglo-Saxon times were abbacies, those founded
after the Conquest were generally priories. Sixty-four Benedictine
nunneries date their foundation from after the Conquest, only
three of which were abbacies. The Benedictine prioress was
in many cases subject to an abbot; her authority varied with
the conditions of her appointment, but in all cases she was
below the abbess in rank. The explanation is to be sought
in the system of feudal tenure. Women no longer held property,
nunneries were founded and endowed by local barons or by abbots.
Where power from the preceding period devolved on the woman
in authority, she retained it; but where new appointments
were made the current tendency was hi favour of curtailing
her power.

[205] Similarly all the Cistercian nunneries
in England, which numbered thirty-six at the dissolution,
were without exception priories. The power of women professing
the order abroad and the influence of the Cistercian abbesses
in Spain and France have been mentioned-facts which preclude
the idea of there being anything in the intrinsic nature of
the order contrary to the holding of power by women. The form
the settlement took in each country was determined by the
prevailing drift of the time, and in England during the with
and lath centuries it was in favour of less independence for
women.

Various incidents in the history of nunneries
illustrate the comparatively dependent position of these settlements
after the Conquest. At first Sheppey had been an abbacy. It
had been deserted during the Viking period; and at the instigation
of the archbishop of Canterbury about the year 1130 nuns were
brought there from Sittingbourne and the house was restored
as a priory.

Amesbury again, one of the oldest and wealthiest
abbeys in the land for women, was dissolved and restored as
a priory, dependent on the abbess of Fontevraud. This change
of constitution presents some interesting features. The lives
of the women assembled there in the 12th century
were of a highly reprehensible character; the abbess was accused
of incontinence and her evil ways were followed by the nuns.
There was no way out of the difficulty short of removing the
women in a body, and to accomplish this was evidently no easy
undertaking. Several charters of the time of King John and
bearing his signature are in existence. The abbess, whose
name is not on record, retired into private life on a pension
of ten marks, and the thirty nuns of her convent were placed
in other nunneries. A prioress and twenty-four nuns were then
brought over from Fontevraud and established at Amesbury,
which became for a time a cell to the foreign house. This
connection with France, at a time when familiarity with French
formed part of a polite education, caused Amesbury to become
the chosen retreat of royal princesses. During the wars with
France under the Edwards, when many priories and cells were
cut off from their foreign connection, Amesbury regained its
old standing as an abbacy.

Several of the Benedictine nunneries founded
after the Conquest [206] owed their foundation to abbacies
of men. Some were directly dependent cells, like Sopwell in
Hertfordshire, a nunnery founded by the abbot of St Albans,
who held the privilege of appointing its prioress. So absolute
was this power that when the nuns appointed a prioress of
their own choice in 1330, she was deposed by the abbot of
St Albans, who appointed another person in her stead. Similarly
the nunnery at Kilburn was a cell to Westminster, its prioress
being appointed by the abbot of Westminster. But as a general
rule the priories were so constituted that the nuns might
appoint a prioress subject to the approval of the patron of
their house, and she was then consecrated to her office by
the bishop.

Various incidents show how jealously each house
guarded its privileges and how needful this was, considering
the changes that were apt to occur, for the charters of each
religious house were the sole guarantee of its continued existence.
From time to time they were renewed and confirmed, and if
the representative of the house was not on the alert, he might
awake to find his privileges encroached upon. In regard to
the changes which were liable to occur the following incident
deserves mention. In the year 1192 the archbishop of York
formed the plan of subjecting the nunnery of St Clement's
at York, a priory founded by his predecessor Thurstan, to
the newly-founded abbacy for women at Godstow. Godstow was
one of the few women's abbacies founded after the Conquest,
and owed its wealth and influence chiefly to its connection
with the family of Fair Rosamond, at one time the mistress
of Henry II, who spent the latter part of her life there.
But the nuns of St Clement's, who had always been free, would
not obey the abbess of Godstow, and they saved themselves
from the archbishop's interference by appealing directly to
the Court of Rome.

A curious incident occurred during the reign
of Henry III in connection with Stanford, a nunnery in Northamptonshire.
Stanford was a priory dependent on the abbot of Peterborough
who had founded it. It appears that the prioress and her convent,
in soliciting confirmation of their privileges from Rome,
employed a certain proctor, who, besides the desired confirmation,
procured the insertion of several additional articles into
the document, one of which was permission for the nuns to
choose their own prioress, and another a release from certain
payments. When the abbot of [207] Peterborough became aware
of these facts he threatened to complain to the Pope, whereupon
the prioress with the nuns' approval carried all their charters
and records of privileges to the archbishop of Canterbury,
alleging that the proctor had acted against their order. They
renounced all claim to privileges secretly obtained, and besought
the primate to represent their conduct favourably to the Pope
and to make peace between them and their patrons.'

Both these incidents occurred in connection
with Benedictine nunneries. The difficulties which occurred
in Cistercian nunneries are less easy to estimate, as they
were not daughter-houses to men's Cistercian abbacies, but
in many cases held their privileges by a bull obtained directly
from the Pope. Thus Sinningthwaite in Yorkshire, founded in
1160, held a bull from Alexander III which exempted the nuns
from paying tithes on the lands they farmed, such exemption
being the peculiar privilege of many Cistercian settlements.
Other bulls secured by Cistercian nunneries in England are
printed by Dugdale.

A few incidents are recorded in connection
with some of the royal princesses, which illustrate the attitude
commonly assumed towards professed nuns, and give us an idea
of the estimation in which convents were held. Queen Margaret
of Scotland we are told desired to become a nun; her mother
and her sister Christina both took the veil, and her daughters,
the princesses Matilda and Mary, lived at Romsey for some
years with their aunt Christina. As Pope Innocent IV canonised
(1250) Queen Margaret of Scotland a few words must be devoted
to her.

Her father Edward, the son of Edmund Ironside
(† 1016), had found refuge at the Scottish court when
he came from abroad with his wife Agatha and their children,
a son and two daughters. Of these daughters, Christina became
a nun; but Margaret was either persuaded or constrained to
marry King Malcolm in 1070, and having undertaken the duties
of so august a station as that of queen, she devoted her energies
to introducing reforms into Scotland and to raising the standard
of industrial art. We possess a beautiful description of her
life, probably written by her chaplain Turgot, and her zeal
and high principles are further [208] evidenced by her letters,
some of which are addressed to the primate Lanfranc.

Margaret's two daughters, Matilda and Mary,
were brought up in the convent, but it is not known when they
came to Romsey in Wessex; indeed their connection with Wessex
offers some chronological difficulties. Their mother's sister
Christina became a professed nun at Romsey in 1086; she may
have lived before in a nunnery in the north of England, and
there advocated her niece Matilda's acceptance of the religious
profession as a protection against the Normans. If this is
not the case it is difficult to fix the date of King Malcolm's
scorn for her proposal that Matilda should become a nun. King
Malcolm was killed fighting against William Rufus in 1093,
Queen Margaret died a few days afterwards, and the princesses
Matilda and Mary, of whom the former was about thirteen, from
that time till 1100 dwelt at Romsey in the south of England.
In the year 1100, after the violent death of Rufus, Henry,
the younger of his brothers, laid claim to the English crown.
A union with a princess, who on the mother's side was of the
house of Cerdic, appeared in every way desirable. According
to the statement of William of Malmesbury († 1142) Henry
was persuaded by his friends, and especially by his prelates,
to marry Matilda. 'She had worn the veil to avoid ignoble
marriages,' says William, who lived close to the locality
and was nearly a contemporary, 'and when the king wished to
marry her, witnesses were brought to say she had worn it without
profession'.' This is borne out by the historian Orderic Vitalis
(† 1142), whose information however is derived at second
hand, for he enlarges on the princesses' stay with the nuns
at Romsey, and on the instruction they received in letters
and good manners, but he does not say that they were actually
professed.

The fullest account of the event is given by
Eadmer († 1124), who was nearly connected with the primate
Anselm, and he naturally puts the most favourable construction
on Matilda's conduct. According to him she wished to leave
the convent and went before Anselm to plead her cause.

' I do not deny having worn the veil,' the
princess said. 'When I was a child my aunt Christina, whom
you know to be a determined [209] woman, in order to protect
me against the violence of the Normans, put a piece of black
cloth on my head, and when I removed it gave me blows and
bad language. So I trembling and indignant wore the veil in
her presence. But as soon as I could get out of her sight
I snatched it off and trampled it underfoot.' In a lively
way she goes on to describe how her father seeing the veil
on her head became angry and tore it off, saying he had no
intention other than that she should be married. Anselm, before
complying with the wish of the princess, convened a chapter
at Lambeth, but after hearing their decision, he declared
Matilda free and united her in marriage to the king.

Anselm's behaviour is doubtless faithfully
represented by Eadmer. Curiously enough later historians,
Robert of Gloucester, Matthew Paris and Rudbone († 1234),
represent Matilda as unwilling to leave the cloister to be
married; and in one of these accounts she is described as
growing angry, and pronouncing a curse on the possible offspring
of the union. Walter Map goes so far as to say that the king
took to wife a veiled and professed nun, Rome neither assenting
nor dissenting, but remaining passive.

Perhaps the validity of the union was afterwards
for political reasons called in question. At any rate Mary,
Matilda's sister, also left the convent to be married to Eustace,
Count of Boulogne, without objection being raised.

That Matilda did not object to leaving the
cloister, we have conclusive proof in her great and continued
affection for Anselm as shown in her letters to him. These
letters and the charitable deeds of the queen, throw light
on the Latinity of the Romsey pupil and on the tastes she
had imbibed there.

We shall have occasion to return to Matilda
again in connection with the philanthropic movement of the
age, and we shall find her founding the hospital of St Giles
in the soke of Aldgate, and bringing the first Austin Canons
from France into England.

All her life she retained a taste for scholarly
pursuits, and patronised scholars and men of letters. Her
correspondence with the primate Anselm yields proof of her
own studies and the freedom with which she wrote Latin.

In one of these letters, written shortly after
her marriage [210] (bk 3. 55), Matilda urges the primate in
strong terms to abstain from the severe fasting he practices,
quoting from Cicero 'on Old Age,' and arguing that as the
mind needs food and drink, so does the body; she at the same
time admits the Scriptures enjoin the duty of fasting, and
Pythagoras, Socrates and others urge the need of frugality.
Anselm in his answer incidentally mentions having joined her
to the king in lawful wedlock.

Matilda's next letters are less fraught with
learning, and in unaffected terms express grief at Anselm's
voluntary exile, which was the outcome of his quarrel with
the king. She is saddened by his absence and longs for his
return (3.93); she would act as intercessor between him and
her husband (3.96), and she writes to the Pope on Anselm's
behalf (3. 99). The queen both read and admired Anselm's writings,
and compares his style to that of Cicero, Quintilian, Jerome,
Gregory and others (3.119) with whom her reading at Romsey
may have made her acquainted.

Anselm is not slow in answering that the king's
continued bitterness is to him a source of grief, and in expressing
the desire that the queen may turn his heart. It is good of
her to wish for his return, which, however, does not depend
on himself; besides 'surely she wishes him to act in accordance
with his conscience.' In one of these letters he accuses the
queen of disposing otherwise than she ought of the churches
which are in her keeping (3.57, 81, 97, 107, 120, 128).

Anselm's continued absence from Canterbury,
which was due to the quarrel about investiture, was felt to
be a national calamity, and many letters passed between him
and those among the Church dignitaries who sided with him
against the king.

Among Anselm's correspondents were several
abbesses of Wessex settlements, who seem to have been in no
way prejudiced against him on account of the approval he gave
to Matilda's leaving the cloister. He writes in a friendly
strain to another Matilda, abbess of St Mary's, Winchester
(Winton), thanking her for her prayers, urging her to cultivate
purity of heart and beauty of mind as an encouragement to
virtue, and begging her to show obedience to Osmund (bishop
of Winchester) in affairs temporal and spiritual (3.30). To
Adeliz, also abbess at St Mary's (3.70), he writes to say
she must not be sorry that William Giffard has left his appointment
as bishop of Winchester, for his going is a reason for rejoicing
among his friends, as it proves his steadfastness in religious
matters. He also writes to Eulalia, abbess (of Shaftesbury),
[211] who was anxious for him to come back, and begs her to
pray that his return may prosper (3.125).

The references to the Benedictine nunneries
of Wessex contained in this correspondence are supplemented
by information from other sources.

In the early part of the 12th century a girl
named Eva was brought up at a convent, but which she left
to go to Anjou, since she preferred the life of a recluse
there to the career which was open to her in the English nunnery.
Her life abroad has been described in verse by Hilarius (†
c. 1124) who is the earliest known Englishman who wrote religious
plays. After studying under Abelard Hilarius had taken up
his abode at Angers, near the place where Eva dwelt, and was
much impressed by her piety and devotions.

From his poem we gather that Eva had been given
into the care of the nuns at St Mary's, Winchester (Winton),
a place which he designates as 'good and renowned.' The girl's
progress in learning was the subject of wonder to the abbess
and her companions, but when Eva reached the age at which
her enrolment as a member of the community was close at hand,
'she turned' in the words of the poet, from success as though
it had been a sinful trespass,' and left the nunnery to go
abroad.

Her admirer Hilarius has celebrated other women
who were devoted to religious pursuits. He addresses one of
them as 'Bona,' and praises her for caring little for the
religious garb unless good works accompany it. The meaning
of her name and that of other religious women whom Hilarius
also addresses, such as 'Superba,' and 'Rosa,' gives him an
opportunity for compliments on the virtues these names suggest.
His poems, though insignificant in themselves, add touches
to our knowledge of women who adopted the religious profession.

In the wars which ensued after the death of
Henry I (1134) the nunneries of Wessex witnessed the climax
and the end of the struggle. The Empress Matilda, daughter
of Henry I and Queen Matilda, who claimed the crown on the
strength of her descent, finding the sympathies of London
divided, approached Winchester, and was received by two convents
of monks and the convent of nuns who came forth to meet her.
The Empress for a time resided at St Mary's Abbey, and there
received a visit from Theobald, [212] archbishop of Canterbury.
During the fighting which followed the nunnery of Wherwell
was burnt, and perhaps St Mary's Abbey at Winchester was destroyed.
Matilda finally yielded to Stephen, and left England on condition
that her son Henry should succeed to the crown.

The nunnery of Romsey continued its connection
with royalty, and we find the daughter of Stephen, Mary of
Blois, established there as abbess previous to her marriage.
Her case again throws curious side-lights on the foundation
of convents and the possibilities open to women who adopted
the religious profession.

The princess Mary had come over from St Sulpice
in France with seven nuns to Stratford at Bow (otherwise St
Leonard's, Bromley in Middlesex), when the manor of Lillechurch
in Kent was granted to the nunnery there by King Stephen for
her own and her companions' maintenance. But these women,
as the charter has it, because of the 'harshness of the rule
and their different habits' could not and would not stay at
Stratford, and with the convent's approval they left it and
removed to Lillechurch, which was constituted by charter a
priory for them. Mary removed later to Romsey where she became
abbess some time before 1159, for in that year her brother
William, the sole surviving heir of Stephen, died, so that
she was left heiress to the county of Boulogne. She was thereupon
brought out of the convent at the instigation of Henry II,
and married to Matthew son of the Count of Flanders, who through
her became Count of Boulogne. Thomas Beket, who was then chancellor,
not primate, was incensed at this unlawful proceeding, and
intervened as a protector of monastic rule, but the only result
of his interference was to draw on himself the hatred of Count
Matthew. It is said that Mary returned to Romsey twelve years
later. Her daughters were, however, legitimised in 1189 and
both of them married.

Various letters found here and there in the
correspondence of this period show how women vowed to religion
retained their connection with the outer world. Among the
letters of Thomas Beket there is one in which he tells his
'daughter' Idonea to transcribe the letter he is forwarding,
and lay it before the [213] archbishop of York in the presence
of witnesses. It has been mentioned that a sister of Thomas
Beket was in 1173 abbess at Barking.

Again, among the letters of Peter of Blois
(† c. 1200), chaplain to Henry II, are several addressed
to women who had adopted the religious profession. Anselma
'a virgin' is urged to remain true to her calling; Christina,
his 'sister,' is exhorted to virtue, and Adelitia 'a nun'
is sent a discourse on the beauties of the unmarried life.

Section 3. The Order of St Gilbert of Sempringham.

The study of the order of St Gilbert, which
is of English origin, shows how in this country also sympathy
with convent life was spreading during the lath century, and
how, owing to the protection afforded to peaceful and domestic
pursuits by the religious houses, many girls and women of
the middle classes became nuns. From an intellectual point
of view the order of St Gilbert has little to recommend it,
for we know of no men or women belonging to the order who
distinguished themselves in learning, literature or art. As
a previous chapter has indicated, its purpose was chiefly
to prevent women from drifting into the unattached and homeless
class, the existence of which was beginning to be recognised
as prejudicial to society.

The material for the study of the order is
abundant. We have several accounts of the life and work of
Gilbert, besides minute injunctions he drafted to regulate
the life of his communities, and there are references to him
in contemporary literature. The success of his efforts, like
that of the men who founded combined orders of canons and
nuns abroad, was due to the admission of women into his settlements
regardless of their class and antecedents. Like Robert of
Arbrissel his interest centred in women, but he differed from
him in giving the supreme authority of his settlements into
the hands of men. For the settlements which afterwards became
double originated in Gilbert's wish to provide for women who
[214] sought him as their spiritual adviser. It was only in
consequence of the difficulties he encountered that canons
were added to the settlements.

Helyot likens the order of St Gilbert to that
of Norbert, the founder of the order of Prémontré,
but here too there are marked points of difference, for in
disposition and character Gilbert was as unlike Norbert as
he was to Robert; he had neither the masterfulness of the
one nor the clear-sighted determination of the other. The
reason of his popularity lies more in his gentleness and persuasiveness,
and these qualities made him especially attractive to women.

Gilbert was a native of Lincolnshire, born
about 1083, the son of a wealthy Norman baron and an English
woman of low rank. His ungainly appearance and want of courtly
bearing rendered him unfit for knightly service. He was sent
to France for his education and there attained some reputation
as a teacher. After his return home he devoted his energies
to teaching boys and girls in the neighbourhood. His father
bestowed on him two livings, one of which was at Sempringham.
His chief characteristic was pity for the lowly and humble,
and this attracted the attention among others of Robert Bloet,
bishop of Lincoln († 1123). For a time Gilbert acted
as a clerk in Bloet's house, and after his death remained
with his successor Alexander († 1148) in a like capacity.
With Alexander he consulted about permanently providing for
those of the lower classes whom his liberality was attracting
to Sempringham.

The first step taken by Gilbert was to erect
suitable dwellings round the church of St Andrew at Sempringham
for seven women whom he had taught and who had devoted themselves
to religion under his guidance, and as they were not to leave
their dwelling place, lay sisters were appointed to wait on
them. He also provided dwellings at Sempringham for the poor,
the infirm, for lepers, and orphans.

The order of Gilbert is held to have been established
before 1135, the year of King Henry l's death. The author
of his life in Dugdale likens Gilbert's progress at this time
to the chariot of Aminadab; to it clung clerics and laymen,
literate and illiterate women, and it was drawn by Master
Gilbert himself.

Gilbert had entered into friendly relations
with the Cistercian [215] monks who were then gaining ground
in Yorkshire, and William, first abbot of Rievaulx (†
1145-6), was among them. He had a good deal to do with Ailred
(† 1166), a notable north-country man who came from Scotland
to live at Rievaulx, and afterwards became abbot successively
of Revesby and Rievaulx.

At this time there were no nunneries in the
north of England, for the great settlements of the early English
period had passed away and no new houses for women had been
founded. The numbers of those who flocked to Gilbert were
so great that he felt called upon to give them a more definite
organization. His friendship with Cistercian monks no doubt
turned his eyes to Citeaux, and the wish arose in him to affiliate
his convents to the Cistercian order. Having placed his congregations
under the care of the Cistercians, he set out for Citeaux
about 1146.

But his hopes were not fulfilled. At Citeaux
he met Pope Eugenius III († 1153) and other leading men.
He cemented his friendship with Bernard of Clairvaux and entered
into friendly relations with Malachy, bishop of Armagh (†
1148), who had introduced the Cistercian order into Ireland.
But the assembly at Citeaux came to the conclusion that they
would not preside over another religious order, especially
not over one for women, and Gilbert was urged to remain at
the head of his communities and Bernard and Malachy presented
him with an abbot's staff.

He returned to England, burdened with a responsibility
from which he would gladly have been free, and obliged to
frame a definite rule of life for his followers. As one account
puts it, 'he now studied the rules of all religious orders
and culled from each its flowers.' The outcome of his efforts
was the elaborate set of injunctions which now lie before
us.

From these injunctions we can see how Gilbert's
original plan had expanded, for his settlements consisted
of bands of canons, lay-brethren, nuns, and lay-sisters. One
set of rules is drafted for the canons who observed the rule
of St Augustine and performed religious service for the double
community, and a separate set for the laymen who acted as
servants. And similarly there is one set of rules for the
nuns who lived by the rule of St Benedict, and another for
their servants the lay-sisters.

These rules suggest many points of similarity
to the combined settlements of canons and nuns previously
founded abroad, but there are also some differences.

[216] In the Gilbertine settlements the dwellings
of the men and women were contiguous, and the convent precincts
and the church were divided between them. The men's dwelling
was under the rule of a prior, but three prioresses ruled
conjointly in the women's house. The arrangements in both
convents were alike, and the duties of prior and prioress
similar, but in all matters of importance the chief authority
belonged to the prior who was at the head of the whole settlement.
The property owned by Gilbertine settlements apparently consisted
largely of sheep, and among the men we note a number of shepherds
and a 'procurator' who bought and sold the animals. The ewes
were regularly milked and the wool was either used in the
house for making clothes, or sold. The laysisters were appointed
to spin and weave and the nuns to cut out and make the garments.

There was one cellar and one kitchen for the
whole settlement, for the cellaress in the women's house acted
as caterer both for the canons and the nuns. Domestic duties
fell to the share of the women. They cooked the canons' food
as well as their own and handed the meals into the men's quarters
through a hole in the wall with a turn-table, through which
the plates and dishes were returned. to them. They also made
clothes for the whole establishment.

At the daily chapter held in the women's house
the prioresses presided in turn, with a companion on either
side. The cellaress reported to the prioress, who settled
the allowances and gave out the food. She received information
also from the 'scrutatrices,' the nuns whose duty it was to
go the round of the house and report disorders, and according
to whose reports she imposed the various penances.

We also hear in the women's house of a librarian
('precentrix'), who had the keys of the book-case ('armarium'),
which was kept locked except during reading time when the
nuns were allowed the use of the books. There was to be no
quarrelling over the books; the nun like the canon was directed
to take the one allotted to her and not to appropriate that
given to another. Simplicity of life was studied. Pictures
and sculpture were declared superfluous and the crosses used
were to be of painted wood. Only books for choir use were
to be written in the convent, but while this holds good alike
for the women and for the men, there is this further prohibition
with regard to the nuns, that talking in Latin was to be avoided.
[217] 'Altogether,' says the rule, 'we forbid the use of the
Latin tongue unless under special circumstances.'

The cooking was done by the nuns in turn for
a week at a time in compliance with a regulation contained
in the rule of St Benedict. The librarian also had her week
of cooking, and when she was on duty in the kitchen, gave
up her keys to another nun. We hear also of the mistress appointed
to teach the novices, and of the portress who guarded the
approaches to the house.

The injunctions drafted for the canons and
the lay members of the settlement are equally explicit. Directions
are also given about tending the sick, who were to be treated
with tenderness and care.

Girls were admitted into the company of the
nuns at the age of twelve, but several years passed before
they could be enrolled among the novices. At the age of twenty
the alternative was put before the novice of joining the nuns
or the lay-sisters. If she decided in favour of the latter
she could not afterwards be promoted to the rank of nun; she
was bound to observe chastity and obedience while she remained
in the house, but she was not consecrated. A certain amount
of knowledge of the hymns, psalms and books of service was
required from the novice before she could make profession.

The scheme of life worked out by Gilbert met
with success and numerous patrons were found to endow settlements
on the plan of that at Sempringham. As the chronicler says,
'many wealthy and highborn Englishmen, counts and barons,
seeing and approving of the undertaking the Lord had initiated
and holding that good would come of it, bestowed many properties
('fundos et praedia') on the holy father (Gilbert) and began
to construct on their own account numerous monasteries in
various districts.'

The greater number of these settlements were
situated in Lincolnshire and Yorkshire, but judging by the
extant charters the conditions and purposes of their foundations
were not always the same. Sometimes the grant is made conjointly
to men and women, sometimes reference is made to the prior
only. In the earlier charters the women are especially noticed,
in the later ones more account is taken of the men. As time
went on the order gradually ceased to have any attraction
for women, and at the time of the dissolution several foundations
originally made for men and women were occupied only by canons.

[218] Gilbert himself did not accept a position
of authority in his order but became a canon at Bullington,
one of its settlements. He appears to have been influential
in wider circles and we find him several times at court. King
Henry II visited him, and both the king and Queen Eleanor
made grants of land to the order. Henry regarded Gilbert with
so much favour that when he was summoned before the King's
Court in London on the charge of having supported Beket in
his exile, the king sent a message from abroad ordering his
case to be reserved for royal judgment, which practically
meant his acquittal.

Rapidly as the number of Gilbertine houses
increased, the order did not remain entirely free from trouble,
for even in Gilbert's lifetime distressing incidents happened
which justified to some extent the scornful remarks of contemporary
writers. One of these difficulties arose sometime between
1153 and 1166 in connection with a girl at Watton. A full
account of the affair was written and forwarded to Gilbert
by Ailred, abbot of Rievaulx. This account illustrates pointedly
the readiness of the age to accept a miraculous rendering
of fact, and gives a curious insight into the temper of a
community of nuns. Indeed such violence of conduct, and details
of such behaviour as are here described show that the barbarity
of the age, which so often strikes us in connection with camp
and court, was reflected in the monastery.

Watton was among the older Gilbertine houses
and had been founded before 1148 by a nobleman Eustace Fitz-John
on property which had belonged to a nunnery during the early
English period. The settlement was among the larger Gilbertine
houses; it owned property to the extent of twenty acres.

The girl had been placed under the care of
the nuns of Watton at the suggestion of Murdach, abbot of
Fountains († 1153), and had given endless trouble by
her unbecoming levity and hopeless laziness. 'She is corrected
by word of mouth but without result, she is urged by blows
but there is no improvement,' writes Ailred, who speaks of
her as a nun without telling us that she had actually made
profession.

She made the acquaintance of one of the lay-brothers
who were engaged in repairing the women's dwelling The two
contrived to [219] meet frequently out of doors until at last
the nun's condition became obvious. Her fellow-nuns were so
incensed at this discovery that they treated her with barbarous
cruelty and would have put her to death had not the prioress
intervened and had her chained and imprisoned. The anger of
the nuns now turned against the lay-brother who had brought
disgrace on their convent, and with a mixture of cunning and
deceit they managed to discover him and have him terribly
mutilated. 'I do not praise the deed, but the zeal,' says
Ailred; 'I do not approve of bloodshed, but for all that I
praise the virgins' hatred of such wickedness.' The esprit
de corps among the nuns and their indignation evidently went
far in his eyes to excuse behaviour which he would not describe
as he did if he had not felt it altogether reprehensible.

Meanwhile the nun overcome by contrition was
awaiting her delivery in prison; there she had visions of
abbot Murdach who had died some years before. He first rebuked
her, but then miraculously relieved her of her burden and
restored her to her normal condition. The nuns though greatly
surprised were convinced of the truth of the statement concerning
the miraculous doings of Murdach because they found the nun's
chains loosened. The prior of Watton sent for Ailred to enquire
more closely into the matter. Ailred came, collected all possible
evidence, and was convinced that there had been divine intervention
on the girl's behalf. He wrote an account of what had happened
to Gilbert, with these words as preface: 'to know of the Lord's
miracles and of his proofs of divine love and to be silent
about them were sacrilege.' What became of the girl we are
not told. For trespasses such as hers the rule of Gilbert
decreed life-long incarceration, but the canon for a like
trespass suffered no punishment beyond being expelled from
the settlement.

The old age of Gilbert was further troubled
by the evil conduct of two men, Gerard a smith, and Ogger
a carpenter. He had taken them into the order out of charity,
but they greatly abused his kindness, appropriated the revenues
of the order, and encouraged dishonesty and sexual irregularities.
Their behaviour was productive of such results that it called
forth a letter from Beket to Gilbert in which he says 'the
greater our love, the more we are troubled and perturbed by
hearing of things happening in your order, which are a grievance
not only before the eyes of men but before the eyes of God.'

However letters in defence of Gilbert were
written by Roger [220] archbishop of York († 1181), Henry
bishop of Winchester († 1171) and William bishop of Norwich
(† 1174), who treat the occurrence as a misfortune and
praise the order generally in the warmest terms. Praise from
other quarters is not wanting, which shows that Gilbert's
work was considered remarkable, especially with regard to
the influence he had over women. William of Newburgh wrote
of him: 'As far as this is concerned, in my opinion he holds
the palm above all others whom we know to have devoted their
energies to the control and government of religious women.'

Gilbert lived to an advanced age. Walter Map,
writing between 1182 and 1189, speaks of him as over a hundred
and well-nigh blind. He was buried at Sempringham, where his
tomb became the goal of many pilgrimages and the scene of
many miracles. He was canonised a saint of the Church by Pope
Innocent II in 1202. One of the accounts of his life, written
shortly after his death, says that the order at that time
numbered thirteen conventual churches and contained seven
hundred men and fifteen hundred women.

The East Riding Antiquarian Society has recently
begun excavating on the site of Watton Priory, one of the
oldest Gilbertine settlements, and has ascertained many particulars
about the inner arrangements of this house. It has found that
the church, built on the foundations of a Norman church which
had been destroyed by fire in 1167, was divided throughout
its entire length by a substantial partition wall nearly five
feet thick. The church served for both sexes of the community,
which were kept separate by this partition. In some places
remains of this wall were found up to the height of four feet;
this was part of the solid foundation upon which, above the
height of the eye, was erected an open arcade which made it
possible for the whole community to hear the sermon preached
on festal days from the pulpit. The parts into which the church
was divided were of unequal size. Dr Cox, the president of
the Society, who read a paper on the Gilbertine statutes,
said that the full complement of the double house at Watton
consisted of a hundred and forty women and seventy men, and
that the larger part of the church was appropriated to the
women and the smaller to the men.

It was further shown by the excavations that
the dividing wall had in one place an archway, covering the
door which was opened for the great processions of both sexes
which took place on the fourteen [221] great festivals of
the year and at funerals. Remains were also found of an opening
in the wall with a turn-table, so arranged that articles could
be passed through without either sex seeing the other. Through
this the chalice, when the canons' mass was over, would be
passed back and restored to the custody of the nuns; no doubt
this was constructed on the same plan as the opening through
which the food was passed.

The cloister of the nuns lay on the north side
of the transept and must have been about a hundred feet square,
an alley of ten feet wide surrounding it. It is thought that
the stone of which the house was built must have been brought
up the Humber from Whitby. An early writer tells us that the
nuns' dwelling at Watton was connected by an underground passage
with the holy well at Kilnwick, and that the nuns by means
of these waters performed wonderful cures.

CHAPTER VII.

ART INDUSTRIES IN THE NUNNERY.

'Spernere mundam, spernere nullum, spernere
sese,

Spernere sperni se, quatuor haec bona sunt.'--
Herrad.

Section 2. Herrad and the 'Garden of Delights.'

. . .[253] This is: 'The rhyme of Herrad, the
abbess, in which she lovingly greets the young maidens (virgunculas)
of the Hohenburg and invites them to their weal to faith and
love of the true Bridegroom.

'Hail, cohort of Hohenburg virgins, white as
the lily and loving the Son of God, Herrad, your most devoted,
your most faithful mother and handmaiden sings you this song.
She greets you times countless and daily prays that in glad
victory you may triumph over things that pass. O. mirror of
many things, spurn, spurn those of time, and garner virtues,
Band of the true Bridegroom Press on in the struggle to scatter
the dread foe, the King of Kings aids you for His desire is
towards you. He Himself strengthens your soul against Satan;
He Himself will grant the glory of His kingdom after victory.
Delights await you, riches are destined for you, [254] the
court of heaven proffers you countless joys. Christ prepares
espousals wondrous in delights, and you may look for this
prince if you preserve your chastity. Mean time put around
you noble circlets (?) and make your faces to shine fair,
freed from mental strife. Christ hates spot or stain, He abhors
time-worn lines (of vice); He desires beauteous virgins and
drives forth women who are unchaste. With a dove-like faith
call upon that your Bridegroom, that your beauty may become
an unbroken glory. Living without guile, be admonished by
praisegiving, so that you may complete your best works of
ascent. Do not hesitate amidst the doubtful currents of the
world, the truthful God holds out rewards after danger. Suffer
hardships now, despising the world's prosperity, be now fellow
of the cross, hereafter sharer of the kingdom. Steer across
the ocean freighted with holiness, till you leave the bark
and land in Sion. May Sion's heavenly castle with its beauteous
halls be your home when the term of life is past. May there
the virgin Ruler, Mary's Son, receive you in His embrace and
lift you up from sadness. Setting aside all the wiles of the
mean tempter, you will be abundantly glad, sweetly rejoicing.
The shining Star of the Sea, the one virgin Mother will join
you to her Son in bond eternal. And by your prayer do not
cease to draw me with you to the sweetest Bridegroom, the
Son of the Virgin. As He will be partner of your victory and
of your great glory, He will draw you from earthly things.
Farewell, chaste band, you my exceeding joy, live without
offence, ever love Christ. May this book prove useful and
delightful to you, may you never cease to ponder it in your
breast. May forgetfulness not seize you like the ostrich (more
Struthineo), and may you not leave the way before you have
attained. Amen.'

This address in verse was followed by these
lines in prose-- 'Herrad, who through the grace of God is
abbess of the church on the Hohenburg, here addresses the
sweet maidens of Christ who are working as though in the vineyard
of the Lord; may He grant grace and glory unto them.--I was
thinking of your happiness when like a bee guided by the inspiring
God I drew from many flowers of sacred and philosophic writing
this book called the 'Garden of Delights'; and I have put
it together to the praise of Christ and the Church, and to
your enjoyment, as though into a sweet honeycomb. Therefore
you must diligently seek your salvation in it and strengthen
your weary spirit with its sweet honey [255] drops; always
be bent on love of your Bridegroom and fortified by spiritual
joys, and you will safely pass through what is transitory,
and secure great and lasting happiness. Through your love
of Christ, help me who am climbing along a dangerous uncertain
path by your fruitful prayer when I pass away from this earth's
experiences. Amen.'

Thus far we have followed Herrad in her work
and in her relations towards her nuns; the question naturally
arises, What inner experiences prompted her to her great undertaking
and in what spirit did she carry it through ? It has been
noticed that a sombreness is characteristic of certain parts
of the work, and is peculiar to some of her poems also. Two
short verses which occur in the work seem to reflect her mental
state. The one urges great liberality of mind. It discusses
the basis of purity, and comes to the conclusion that purity
depends less on actions than on the spirit in which they are
done. The other follows the mind through its several stages
of development and deserves to be chronicled among the words
of wisdom. It runs as follows: 'Despise the world, despise
nothing, despise thyself, despise despising thyself, --these
are four good things.'

CHAPTER IX.

EARLY MYSTIC LITERATURE.

'Die tumpheit behaget ir alleine selbe,

die weisheit ken niemer volle leren.'

(Mechthild the beguine.)

Section 1. Mystic writings for women in
England.

[305] THE last chapter, in dealing with some
of the women who distinguished themselves in the cause of
charity and philanthropy, has suggested in what direction
the determining feature of the religious life of women in
the 13th century must be sought. Outward events, stirring
political changes, and awakening confidence in national strength,
had largely increased human sympathies and widened the mental
horizon. In regard to women, who sought their vocation outside
the circle of home, this had led on the one hand to efforts
for alleviating human want and human suffering, on the other
to a stirring of the imagination in the direction of speculation
on the value and the help afforded by religious belief.

The different beauties of the active and the
contemplative life had all along been realized, and were currently
represented by the figures of Mary and Martha, types of divergent
tendencies which were attractive in different ways. The busy
Martha with her charitable devotion was the ideal of many
women, since rescuing the needy, assisting the helpless, and
ministering to the sick constituted the vocation of women
in a special sense. But a peculiar charm of a different kind
hung at all times round the thoughtful and studious Mary,
who set the claims and realities of life at nought compared
with the greater reality of the eternal [306] life hereafter.
At the beginning of the 13th century, when the increase in
religious enthusiasm deepened yearnings for the apprehension
of the divine, men in their individual capacities began to
seek a personal and closer communion with God. The absorption
by things spiritual as contrasted with things material took
a new departure. On one side was the learned thinker who,
trained in the knowledge of the schools, sought to fathom
his own powers and through them the powers of mankind so as
to transcend the limits of sensible existence, and who gave
a new development to mysticism in its technical sense. On
the other side was the large number of those who, no longer
satisfied with the mediation of appointed ministers of the
Church, sought a personal relation to God, the effect of which
on themselves .vould be moral regeneration. It was in connection
with these that a number of writings were composed which represent
mysticism in its popular sense: the steps by which the divine
can be approached, set forth under the form of an allegory.

The allegorical mysticism of the Middle Ages
culminates in Dante (1260-1321). It is well to bear this in
mind in the presence of minor lights. For while there is much
that is strangely fascinating in the 13th century mystic,
and touches of simple good faith and of honest directness
of purpose abound, the conditions under which he works and
the language in which he expresses himself cannot pass without
criticism. Cloistered seclusion, estrangement from the outside
world, the cult of asceticism, and insistence on the emotional
side of life, if judged by the standard of to-day, are not
conducive to mental and moral welfare. Moreover a later age
always finds it difficult to understand that an earlier one
had its own notions in regard to the fitness and beauty of
the surroundings it made for itself. But productive genius
at all times freely makes for itself surroundings that cannot
be called absolutely healthy. It needs a certain effort to
realise on what ground the 13th century mystic stands. But
when once we are able to follow him, moving in his world is
like walking in an enchanted garden, --enchanted to us, but
real to him, where each growing sentiment and each budding
thought has its peculiar charm.

It is the same with regard to the language
in which the mystic expresses himself The close communion
he seeks with the Godhead leads him to use terms which are
directly adopted from those which express the experiences
and feelings of ordinary life. There is in him no shrinking
from holding God and the saints [307] as personalities, and
no hesitation in expressing desire for things spiritual in
language currently used for expressing the promptings of desire
for things of this world; for he is a realist in the view
he takes of God and the saints. The old interpretation of
the Song of Solomon supplied him with a model after which
to form his conceptions, and by a further adaptation it led
every nun to greet her bridegroom in Christ and every monk
to greet his bride in the Virgin. Outside the convent the
age of romance had brought a new element into the relations
of the sexes and had accepted years of service and continued
wooing as the steps which led to the consummation of desire.
This idea transferred to spiritual relations now caused the
mystic to dwell on the steps by which the Divine can be approached.
The poetry of romance and the poetry of mysticism have much
in common; both appear to have been the outcome of the same
sentiments differently applied in convent and court. And as
the language of real life made it possible for the mystic
to formulate his feelings, so his religious aspirations in
their turn helped to spiritualise the relations of real life.

It deserves special attention that some of
the writings of these early mystics are in the vernacular
and include some of the most beautiful productions in Middle
English and in early German. Their philological interest has
recently led to their publication, but their social importance
is equally great. For in them we see how the high estimation
of virgin purity, which was in the fore-ground of the moral
consciousness of the age, was advocated by the leaders of
thought and came to influence the lives of individual women,
and how the asexual existence which hitherto had been accepted
as praiseworthy was extolled as virtue in itself.

Again it is difficult for a later age to rate
this conception at its just value, for the depreciation of
the relationship of sex is to the modern mind not only misplaced
but misleading. It is only when we think of the gain this
depreciation has helped to secure in self-control and self-respect
that it appears at all reasonable.

Of the early productions of the mystic school,
which are distinctly moral in tendency and personal in tone,
none offer greater attractions than works written in England
during the first half of the l3th century for the use of women
who were vowed to religion. All these writings, some of which
will here be considered, are in the vernacular, and owing
to their measured grace and tone of delicate refinement are
among the most attractive [308] monuments of Middle English.
They are chiefly productions of the south of England where
the Saxon element had been preserved in its integrity. Scholars
have remarked how a certain roughness of diction and a heroic
element opposed to softness of sentiment lingered on in the
north and precluded the utterance of gentler strains, while
the south used a language of combined vigour and grace and
became the cradle of lyric poetry. Moreover the south at this
period cultivated the qualities which give to a movement its
moral stamina. We find loyalty to the king coupled with distaste
for court pleasures, and strong religious feeling combined
with that insistence on nationality which precluded servile
submission to the Pope. The south was also in connection with
the best intellectual forces of the age as represented by
the growing schools at Oxford, and Oxford in its turn was
in direct touch with Paris, which remained throughout the
l3th century the most important centre of learning and education
in Europe.

A few words must be given to this connection
and its results, for it was in Paris that the master-minds
of Oxford acquired that enthusiasm for study which, applied
to the realities of life, became zeal for reform and desire
for moral regeneration.

Two lines of study are apparent in Paris. There
is the mysticism of the school of St Victor, represented by
men of such mental calibre as Hugo († 1141), a native
of Germany, and his pupil Richard († 1173), a native
of Scotland. The combined influence of these two men on the
English mind was very great, for many productions of the English
mystical school were inspired by or adapted from their Latin
mystical works. The writings of Richard translated into English
are frequently found in manuscripts by the side of the works
of the later English mystics Richard Rolle († 1349),
and Walter Hylton († 1395).

On the other hand Paris was the first to experience
the vivifying influence of the renewed study of Greek philosophy,
especially of the Aristotelian corpus, together with its comments
by Arabian philosophers, especially with those of Averroes
(fl. 1150). Jews from the south of France had introduced these
writings, which, repeatedly condemned but as often advocated,
had the effect on speculative minds of the introduction of
a new science. Christian theology, rising to the occasion,
adopted their metaphysical views, though so radically divergent
from its own, and the result was the [309] birth of scholastic
philosophy. But where the incompatibility of the union was
felt scholars left the halls of discussion and turned their
energies to grappling with the problems of active life.

In Oxford as early as 1133 Robert Pullen, who
had studied in Paris, was lecturing on week days and preaching
on Sundays to the people, and during the course of the l3th
century a number of men who had won the highest distinctions
at the university,--such as Edmund Rich († 1240), Adam
Marsh († 1257-8), and Robert Grosseteste (afterwards
bishop of Lincoln, † 1253), followed in his footsteps.
Their efforts fell in with those of the newly founded orders
of friars, and they greeted as brothers in the spirit the
twelve Dominicans who arrived at Oxford in 1221 and the Franciscans
who came in 1224. These maintained an utter distrust of learning,
which led to much argument between them and the students,
but all alike were zealous in working for the welfare of the
uneducated classes.

We are indebted to Thomas de Hales for one
of the earliest and most beautiful poems written for the use
of a nun. He was a native of Hales in Gloucestershire, studied
both at Oxford and Paris, and was under the influence of the
Franciscan movement. Wadding says in his annals of the Franciscan
order that 'Thomas de Hales, created a doctor of the Sorbonne,
was most celebrated and is known not only in England, but
also in France, Germany, and Italy.' Thomas was on friendly
terms with Adam Marsh who had become a Franciscan friar, and
he joined this order himself as is apparent from the superscription
of his English poem. Various facts suggest possibilities as
to his career, for Hales in Gloucestershire was the home also
of Alexander de Hales († 1245) who went to Paris and
spent his energies in compiling a work on scholasticism which
secured him the title of doctor irrefragabilis. Moreover
in 1246 Hales became the seat of a Cistercian monastery founded
by Henry III.'s brother, Richard, earl of Cornwall, who was
intimately connected with the circle of men at Oxford and
a friend and patron of the Franciscans. It is possible that
Thomas owed encouragement to the learned Alexander or to Earl
Richard. The year 1250 is accepted as the date when he flourished,
but his English poem was probably written somewhat earlier.
This is suggested by the praise bestowed in it on King Henry
and his [310] wealth, which could hardly have been accorded
later than 1240, for it was then that the king began to alienate
his people's affection by tampering with the coinage and by
countenancing foreign influences at court and in the Church,
in compliance with the wishes of his wife, Eleanor of Provence.

The poem of Thomas is called a Luve Ron,
that is a love song; it consists of twenty-six rhymed stanzas
with much alliterative assonance. Falling in with the tendencies
of the age it treats of the happiness in store for women who
accept Christ as their spouse. Thomas describes how he came
to advise a nun in her choice of a lover. As the translation
of the poem into modern English rhyme sacrifices much of its
directness, the stanzas which follow have been rendered as
prose.

'A maid of Christ bade me earnestly to make
her a love-song,

That she might best learn how to take a faithful
lover,

Most faithful of all, and best suited to a
free woman;

I will not refuse her, but direct her as best
I can.

Maiden, thou must understand that this world's
love is rare,

In many ways fickle, worthless, weak, deceiving,

Men that are bold here pass away as the winds
blow;

Under the earth they lie cold, fallen away
as meadow grass.

No one enters life who is certain to remain,

For here man has many sorrows, neither repose
nor rest;

Towards his end he hastens, abiding but a short
time,

Pain and death hurry him away when most he
clings to life.

None is so rich nor yet so free but he soon
must go;

Gold and silver, pomp and ermine give him no
surety;

Swift though he be, he cannot escape, nor lengthen
his life by a day,

Thus, thou seest, this world as a shadow glides
past.'

The poet then enlarges on the transitoriness
of terrestrial love. Where are Paris and Helen, Amadis, Tristram,
and others famous for their love ? 'They have glided from
this world as the shaft that has left the bow-string.' Wealth
such as King Henry's, beauty such as Absalom's availed them
nought. But the poet knows of a true king whose love abides.

`Ah sweet, if thou knewest but this one's virtues!

He is fair and bright, of glad cheer, mild
of mood,

[311] Lovely through joy, true of trust, free
of heart, full of wisdom;

Never wouldst thou regret it if once thou wert
given into his care.

He is the richest man in the land as far as
men have the power of speech,

All is given into his hand, east, west, north
and south.

Henry the king holds of him and bows to him.

Maiden, to thee he sends the message that he
would be beloved by thee.'

The beauty of this lover, Christ, is thus described,
and the fairness of his dwelling, where hate, pride and envy
enter not, and where all rejoice with the angels. 'Are not
those in a good way who love such a lord ?' the poet asks.
In return for the bliss Christ grants, He asks only that the
maiden keep bright the jewel of maidenhood which He has entrusted
to her. The poem ends thus:

This poem, maiden, I send thee open and without
a seal,

Bidding thee unroll it and learn each part
by heart,

Then be very gracious and teach it faithfully
to other maidens.

Who knows the whole right well will be comforted
by it.

If ever thou sittest lonely, draw forth this
little writing,

Sing it with sweet tones, and do as I bid thee.

He who has sent thee a greeting, God Almighty,
be with thee,

And receive thee in his bower high up in heaven
where He sits.

And may he have good ending, who has written
this little song.'

From this poem we turn to the prose works written
at this period for religious women, which are inspired by
the same spirit of earnest devotion, and contain thoughts
as tender, refined, and gentle as the poem of Thomas de Hales.
The prose treatise known as the Ancren Riwle, the rule
for recluses, is by far the most important of these works,
and from the present point of view deserves close attention,
for it gives a direct insight into the moral beauties of the
religious attitude, and enables us to form some idea of the
high degree of culture and refinement which the lath century
mystic attained.

A few words of criticism on the purpose of
the book and on its authorship are here necessary. We have
before us a work written not for the regular inmates of a
nunnery, not for nuns who lived [312] under the rule of a
prioress or abbess, but for religious women who after being
trained in a nunnery, left it to continue a chaste and secluded
life outside. The Church at all times gave most honour to
those monks and nuns who were members of a convent and lived
under the rule of a superior, but it did not deny the credit
of holy living, or the appellations monk and nun, to those
who either alone or with a few companions devoted themselves
to religion, and dwelt sometimes near a chapel or sanctuary,
sometimes in a churchyard. From the earliest times the people
had held such male and female recluses in special reverence,
and the Church, yielding to popular feeling, accepted them
as holy, and in some instances countenanced their being ranked
as saints.

With reference to the distinction made from
the earliest period between the different classes of those
who professed religion, and their respective claims to holiness,
it seems well to quote from the introductory chapter of the
rule of St Benedict. The following passages occur in all the
prose versions of the rule known to me, whether written for
the use of men, or adapted to the use of women.

The Anglo-Saxon version of the rule of St Benedict
made in the 10th or l1th century, which is based on the version
written by Aethelwold about the year 961, runs thus: 'There
are four kinds of monks, muneca; the first kind are
those in monasteries, mynstermonna, who live under
a rule or an abbot. The second kind are the hermits, ancrena,
that is settlers in the wilds (westensetlena), who,
not in the first fervour of religious life, but after probation
in the monastery, have learned by the help and experience
of others to fight against the devil, and going forth well
armed from the ranks of their brethren to the single-handed
combat of the wilderness, are able without the support of
others to fight by the strength of their own arm and the help
of God against the vices of the flesh and their evil thoughts.
A third and most baneful kind of monk are the self-appointed
ones, sylfdemena, who have been tried by no rule nor
by the experience of a master, as gold in the furnace, but
being soft as lead and still serving the world in their works,
are known by their tonsure to lie to God. These, in twos or
threes or even singly without a shepherd, not enclosed in
the Lord's sheepfold, follow the enjoyment of their will instead
of a rule; whatever they think fit or choose to do they call
holy, and what they like not they condemn as unlawful. There
is a fourth [313] kind of monk called wandering, widscrithul,
who spend all their life wandering about, staying in different
cells for three or four days at a time, ever roaming, given
up to their own pleasures and the evils of gluttony, and worse
in all ways than the self-appointed ones.'

In the English versions of the rule for women,
two of which, drafted respectively in the l3th and in the
15th century, are extant, the same distinctions are drawn
between different kinds of nuns. The l3th century version
states that there are the nuns living in a monastery under
an abbess, mynecene,--a kind of nun called ancre
or recluse,--the self-appointed nuns,--and the wandering nuns
who are declared altogether evil.

The difference between the nun and the ancre
is made clear by these passages. The ancre or recluse,
called in Latin inclusa, is the nun who after receiving
a convent education lives a holy life away from the nunnery,
and it is for ancren or nuns of this kind that the
book we are about to discuss was written. Fortunately the
work does not stand alone as an exhortation to women recluses.
We are in possession of a letter from Ailred of Rievaulx,
written between 1131 and 1161, and addressed to his sister
(sic), which was written for a similar purpose though covering
very much narrower ground, and contains advice analogous to
that contained in the Ancren Riwle. The original is
in Latin, and in this form it was probably known to the author
of the Acren Riwle, who refers to it, saying how Ailred
had already insisted that purity of life can be maintained
only by observing two things, a certain hardness of bodily
life and a careful cultivation of moral qualities.

The letter of Ailred is in the form of a series
of short chapters and is divided into two parts, the first
of which (c. 1-20) treats of the outward rule. It gives advice
as to whom the inclusa should converse with, and whom
she should admit into her presence; it tells her that she
should not own flocks, which leads to buying and selling;
that she should live by the work of her hands, not accepting
as a gift more food than she needs for herself and her servants;
and that she must not do as some recluses do, who busy themselves
with 'teaching girls and boys and turn their cells into a
school.' It also directs her about divine service, and about
her food and clothes.

Having so far dealt with outward things Ailred
(c. 21-46) [314] dwells on the inward life, on virginity,
on the dangers of temptation and on the beauties of humility
and love. His sentences are short and are illustrated by quotations
from scripture, by reference to the holy virgin St Agnes,
and by remarks on the respective merits of Mary and Martha.
The concluding chapters (c. 47-78) are found also in the works
of Anselm, archbishop of Canterbury († 1109), and appear
to have been borrowed from him.

The letter of Ailred proves that the conduct
of the recluse was attracting attention in the l2th century.
Part of his letter was translated into Middle English by one
Thomas N. in the l3th century, about the same time when the
Ancren Riwle was drawn up, and in its superscription
it is designated as the 'information' which Ailred, abbot
of Rievaulx, wrote for his sister the inclusa. In this
translation, however, the opening parts of the work which
treat of the outward rule (c. 1-20) are omitted, evidently
because the translation was intended not for recluses but
for nuns, to whom directions about domestic matters, such
as buying, selling, clothing and eating, would not apply.

Further evidence can be adduced to show that
women recluses in the 13th century occupied public attention
to an increasing degree. Hitherto they had been left to dwell
where they pleased, supported by chance gifts from the people,
but in the 13th century it became usual to leave them legacies.
A mass of information on the subject has been collected by
Cutts, who describes how women recluses occupied sometimes
a range of cells, sometimes a commodious house; and how they
kept one or more servants to run on their errands. In 1246
the bishop of Chichester issued an injunction which shows
that his attention had been drawn to these women, and that
in his mind there was a distinct difference between them and
regular nuns. Under the heading 'On recluses' (inclusis)
it says: 'Also we ordain that recluses shall not receive or
keep any person in their house concerning whom sinister suspicions
may arise. Also that they have narrow and proper windows;
and we permit them to have secret communication with those
persons only whose gravity and honesty do not admit of suspicion.
Women recluses should not be entrusted with the care of church
vestments; [315] if necessity compels it, we command it to
be done with caution, that he who carries them may have no
communication with the recluses.'

Taking these various remarks into consideration
and comparing them with what is said in the Ancren Riwle itself,
the author of which keeps clear in his mind the difference
between recluse and nun, I think the idea that this work was
originally written for the Cistercian nunnery at Tarent in
Dorsetshire, as is usually alleged, will be abandoned. This
assumption is based on the superscription of a Latin copy
of the book, which states that Simon of Ghent wrote it for
his sisters the anchoresses near Tarent (apud Tarente). But
the theory that the book was originally in Latin, and that
it was written by Simon, archdeacon at Oxford in 1284, and
bishop of Salisbury between 1307-1315, has long been abandoned.
The idea that it was written for the nunnery at Tarent may
also be discarded, for Tarent was a house founded by Ralph
de Kahaines in the time of Richard I. Therefore at the time
when Simon lived, and doubtless also at the time when the
book was written (1225-50), the settlement must have consisted
of more than three women recluses and their servants. Women
recluses might be living at Tarent as elsewhere, since Simon
forwarded the book to recluses there, but they would not be
members of the Cistercian convent. It may be noticed in passing
that the other Latin copy of the rule, which was destroyed
by fire in 1731, had a superscription saying that Robert Thornton,
at one time prior, gave it to the recluses (claustralibus)
of Bardney, which is a Benedictine abbey for men in Lincolnshire.

To relinquish the idea that the Ancren Riwle
was written originally for the Cistercian nunnery at Tarent
is to relinquish also the supposition that it is the work
of Richard Poor, dean of Salisbury, and afterwards bishop
successively of Chichester and Durham († 1237), for the
theory of his authorship rests only on his interest in this
nunnery, to which he added a chapel and where his heart lies
buried. A fuller knowledge of the English writings of the
time may reveal by whom and for whom the book was written.
The dialect proves it to be the production of a native of
the south-western part of England, while its tone reveals
a connection with Paris and Oxford. The writer must have had
a high degree of culture, and was familiar with French, with
court poetry, [316] and with the similes so frequent in the
stories of romance. He had a sound theological training, with
a knowledge of the works of Jerome, Augustine, Gregory, Anselm,
and notably of Bernard, from whom he frequently quotes. He
had strong religious sympathies, but imperfect sympathy with
the established church,--these latter facts tend to prove
that he was in some measure connected with the friars. His
references to 'our lay brethren,' and his description of the
'hours' as said by them, may serve as a clue to his identification.

The Ancren Riwle or rule for recluses,
fills a moderately sized volume and is extant in eight manuscript
copies, of which five are in English, that is four in the
dialect of the south and one in that of the north,--two in
Latin, and one in French. The work is divided into eight parts,
a short analysis of which will give an idea of the importance
of the book and of the wide range of its author's sympathies.
As he says himself the book was written for three sisters
who in the bloom of their youth had forsaken the world to
become anchoresses, but he expects it will be read by others.
He assumes that his readers know Latin and French as well
as English, a fact which in itself proves that like the ancren
referred to above, the ancren here addressed had received
their education in a nunnery.

In the short introduction which precedes the
work the author says he will accede to the request of the
women who have importuned him for a rule.

'Do you now ask what rule you recluses should
observe ? ' he asks (p. 5). 'You should always keep the inward
rule well with all your might and strength for its own sake.
The inward rule is ever alike; the outward varies.... No recluse
by my advice shall make profession, that is promise to keep
anything commanded, save three things, obedience, chastity
and stedfastness; she shall not change her home save by need,
such as compulsion, fear of death or obedience to her bishop,
or her master (herre). For she who undertakes anything and
promises to do it at God's command, is bound to it and sins
mortally in breaking her promise by will or wish. If she has
not promised she may do it and leave it off as she will, as
of meat and drink, abstaining from flesh and fish and other
like things relating to dress, rest, hours and prayers. Let
her say as many of these as she pleases, and in what way she
[317] pleases. These and other such things are all in our
free choice to do or let alone whenever we choose, unless
they are promised. But charity, that is love, and meekness
and patience, truthfulness and keeping the ten ancient commandments,
confession and penitence, these and such as these, some of
which are of the old law, some of the new, are not of man's
invention.'

He then goes on to tell them that if asked
to what order they belong, they must say, to the order of
St James, who was God's apostle (and who wrote a canonical
epistle). He dilates upon early Christian hermits and recluses,
saying that they were of the order of St James, for in his
mind St James the apostle is identical with St James the hermit.

He then describes the contents of his work,
saying the first part only shall treat of the outward rule,
all the others of the inward.

The first part accordingly (pp. 15-48) is on
religious service, and in it the women are advised what prayers
they shall say and at what time of the day: 'Let everyone
say her hours as she has written them,' and as a guide take
what ~hours' are kept by 'our lay brethren.' The sick, the
sorrowful, prisoners, and Christians who are among the heathen
shall be called to mind. The tone which the author occasionally
takes has the full personal ring of 13th century mysticism.
(p. 35) 'After the kiss of peace in the mass, when the priest
consecrates, forget there all the world, and there be entirely
out of the body, there in glowing love embrace your beloved
spouse (leofman) Christ, who is come down from heaven into
the bower of your breast, and hold him fast till he have granted
all that you wish.' Several prayers follow, one in Latin on
the adoration of the cross, and several in English which are
addressed to the sweet lady St Mary.

Outward observances being disposed of, the
author then advises the women how to keep guard over the heart,
'wherein is order, religion and the life of the soul,' against
the temptations of the five senses (pp. 48-117). The different
senses and the dangers attending them are discussed, sometimes
casually, sometimes in a systematic manner. In connection
with Sight we get interesting details on the arrangement of
the building in which the recluses dwelt. Its windows are
hung with black cloth on which is a white cross. The black
cloth is impervious to the wind and difficult to see through;
the white of the cross is more transparent and emblematic
of purity, by the help of which it becomes safe to look abroad.
Looking abroad, however, is generally attended with danger.
'I write more [318] particularly for others,' the author here
remarks, 'nothing of the kind touches you, my dear sisters,
for you have not the name, nor shall you have it by the grace
of God, of staring recluses, whose profession is unrecognizable
through their unseemly conduct, as is the case with some,
alas !'

Speech too should be wisely controlled, talking
out of church windows should be avoided, and conversation
generally should be indulged in only through the 'house' window
and the parlour window. 'Silence always at meals,' says the
author, and quotes from Seneca and Solomon on the evil effects
of idle prattling. Hearing, that is listening too readily,
also has its dangers, for it leads to spreading untruths.
'She who moves her tongue in lying makes it a cradle to the
devil's child, and rocketh it diligently as a nurse.' In passages
which show a keen insight into human nature and which are
dictated by a wise and kindly spirit, the author among other
examples describes how anyone seeking the recluse's sympathy
for bad ends would approach her in plaintive strains, deploring
that he is drawn to her, and assuring her that he desires
nothing but her forgiveness, and thus by engrossing her thoughts
more and more, would perturb her mind by rousing her personal
sympathy.

The sense of Smell also has its dangers; but
in regard to the fifth sense, Feeling, there is most need,
the author thinks, of comfort, 'for in it the pain is greatest,
and the pleasure also if it so happen.' The sufferings of
Christ are analysed and it is shown how he suffered in all
his senses but especially in feeling.

The next part of the work (pp. 118-177) contains
moral lessons and examples. The peevish recluse finds her
counterpart in the pelican which kills her own young ones
when they molest her. Like the bird, the recluse in anger
kills her works, then repents and makes great moan. There
are some fine passages on the effects of anger which is likened
to a sorceress (uorschuppild) and transforms the recluse,
Christ's spouse, into a she-wolf (wulvene). That women devotees
often behaved very differently from what they ought is evident
from these passages, for false recluses are likened unto foxes
who live in holes and are thievish, ravenous and yelping,
but 'the true recluses are indeed birds of heaven, that fly
aloft and sit on the green boughs singing merrily; that is,
they meditate, enraptured, upon the blessedness of heaven
that never fadeth but is ever green, singing right merrily;
that is in such meditation they rest in peace and have gladness
of [319] heart as those who sing.' In one passage, where the
flight of birds is described, it says, 'the wings that bear
the recluses upwards are good principles, which they must
move unto good works as a bird that would fly moveth its wings.'
From dumb animals wisdom and knowledge can be learnt, says
the author, giving as an example the eagle, which deposits
in his nest a precious stone called agate, which wards off
harm, and thus Jesus Christ should be cherished to keep off
evil. In another passage the author plays on the words ancre
and anchor, saying that the ancre or recluse is anchored to
the Church as the anchor to the ship, that storms may not
overwhelm it. The reasons for solitary life are then enumerated
under separate headings, and passages from the Old and the
New Testament are freely quoted in illustration and corroboration
of the statements made.

The fourth part of the book (pp. 178-298) dilates
on temptation, in regard to which the writer holds that greater
holiness brings increased difficulties. 'As the hill of holy
and pious life is greater and higher, so the fiend's puffs
which are the winds of temptation are stronger thereon and
more frequent.' Patience and meekness are chiefly required
to resist the troubles of sickness, and wisdom and spiritual
strength must resist grief of heart, anger and wrath. Again
the recluses for whom the book is written are assured that
they have least need to be fortified against temptations and
trials, sickness only excepted.

The imagery in which the author goes on to
describe the seven chief sins is graphic and powerful. They
are personified as the Lion of Pride, the Serpent of Envy,
the Unicorn of Wrath, the Bear of Sloth, the Fox of Covetousness,
the Swine of Gluttony, and the Scorpion of Lust, each with
its offspring. Of the Scorpion's progeny we are told that
'it cloth not become a modest mouth to name the name of some
of them,' while the Scorpion itself is a kind of worm, that
has a face somewhat like that of a woman, but its hinder parts
are those of a serpent. It puts on a pleasant countenance
and fawns upon you with its head but stings with its tail.
Again, the sins are likened to seven hags (heggen), to whom
men who serve in the devil's court are married. The description
of these men as jugglers, jesters, ash-gatherers and devil's
purveyors, gives interesting details on the characters in
real life by which they were suggested. Of the comforting
thoughts which the recluse is to dwell upon the following
give a fine example.

[320] 'The sixth comfort is that our Lord,
when he suffereth us to be tempted, playeth with us as the
mother with her young darling: she fleeth from him and hides
herself, and lets him sit alone, look anxiously around calling
Dame, dame! and weep awhile, and then she leapeth forth laughing
with outspread arms and embraceth and kisseth him and wipeth
his eyes. Just so our Lord leaveth us sometimes alone, and
withdraweth his grace and comfort and support, so that we
find no sweetness in any good we do, nor satisfaction of heart;
and yet all the while our dear father loveth us none the less,
but doeth it for the great love he bath for us.'

In times of tribulation the recluse is directed
to meditate on God and His works, on the Virgin and the saints,
and the temptations they withstood, such as are related in
an English book on St Margaret. Again and again the writer,
who does not tire of this part of his theme, dwells on the
various sins separately, and on the best way of meeting them.

The next part of the book (pp. 298-348) is
devoted to an analysis of the use and the manner of confession,
the theory and practice of which in the Church of Rome are
ancient, but which the religious enthusiasm of the Middle
Ages elaborated into a hard and fast system. That self-introspection
and analysis are helpful in developing and strengthening conscientiousness
no one will deny, but the habitual disclosure of one's thoughts
and criticisms of self to another, though it may still afford
support to some, has ceased to appear generally advisable.
Granted that the practice in the past served a good purpose,
the advice given in this book for recluses appears dictated
by a strong sense of fitness and moderation. The author considers
confession powerful in three directions: it 'confoundeth the
devil,' it gives us back all the good we have lost, and it
'maketh us children of God.' Under these headings there is
a long and systematic elaboration of the sixteen ways in which
confession should be made, viz. it should be accusatory, bitter,
complete, candid, and it should be made often, and speedily,
humbly and hopefully, etc. Stories out of the Bible and parables
of a later age are introduced in corroboration of each injunction.
Under the heading of candid confession the words to be used
in self-accusation are interesting, because it is obvious
that a higher moral standard is claimed from women than from
men. The person who has committed sin is to address the father
confessor (schrift feder) in these words: 'I am a woman, and
ought by right to have been more modest than to speak as I
have spoken, or [321] to do as I have done; and therefore
my sin is greater than if a man had done it, for it became
me worse.' From the Gospels and the Fathers the writer adduces
strings of wise sayings which bear on the points he would
impress upon his readers. This fifth part of the book, he
says, belongs to all men alike, not to recluses in particular,
and he ends by admonishing the sisters in this way: 'Take
to your profit this short and concluding summary of all mentioned
and known sins, as of pride, ambition, presumption, envy,
wrath, sloth, carelessness, idle words, immoral thoughts,
any idle hearing, any false joy or heavy mourning, hypocrisy,
the taking too much or too little meat or drink, grumbling,
being of morose countenance, breaking silence, sitting too
long at the parlour window, saying hours badly or without
attention of heart or at a wrong time, any false word or oath,
play, scornful laughter, wasting crumbs, or spilling ale or
letting things grow mouldy or rusty or rotten; leaving clothes
not sewed, wet with rain, or unwashed; breaking a cup or a
dish, or carelessly looking after any thing which we own and
should take care of; or cutting or damaging through heedlessness.'
These in the writer's eyes are the likely sins among the recluses
whom he addresses and against which he warns them to be on
their guard. If they have committed them they must forthwith
confess, but trivial faults should be wiped away by prayers
said before the altar the moment the recluse is conscious
of them.

Passing from the subject of Confession to that
of Penance (pp. 348-383) the author as he says borrows much
from the Sentences of Bernard, the general drift of which
is in favour of self-discipline and implies mortification
of the flesh. In this context comes the reference to Ailred's
(Seint Aldret's) advice to his sister, who also was directed
to give the body pain by fasting, watching, and discipline,
by having coarse garments and a hard bed, and by bearing evil
and working hard. But here again the recluses addressed are
told that in the eyes of their adviser they incline rather
to over-much self-denial than to over-much selfindulgence.

The seventh part of the book (pp. 384-410)
treats of the pure heart or of love and is attractive in many
ways. The sentiments developed and the pictures described
give one the highest opinion of the feelings of which the
age was capable, as reflected in this writer's innermost being.
The beautiful parable where Christ woos the soul in guise
of a king is well worth repeating,[322] for there we see the
courtly attitude, which the age of romance had developed in
real life, receiving a spiritual adaptation.

'There was a lady who was besieged by her foes
within an earthly castle, and her land was all destroyed and
herself quite poor. The love of a powerful king was however
fixed upon her with such boundless affection that to solicit
her love he sent his messengers one after the other, and often
many together, and sent her trinkets both many and fair, and
supplies of victuals and help of his high retinue to hold
her castle. She received them all as a careless creature with
so hard a heart that he could never get nearer to her love.
What would's" thou more ? He came himself at last and
showed her his fair face, since he was of all men the fairest
to behold, and spoke so sweetly and with such gentle words
that they might have raised the dead from death to life. And
he wrought many wonders, and did many wondrous deeds before
her eyes, and showed her his power and told her of his kingdom,
and offered to make her queen of all that he owned. But all
availed him nought. Was not this surprising mockery? For she
was not worthy to have been his servant. But owing to his
goodness love so mastered him that he said at last: "Lady,
thou art attacked, and shine enemies are so strong that thou
canst not without my help escape their hands that thou mayest
not be put to a shameful death. I am prompted by love of thee
to undertake this fight, and rid thee of those that seek thy
death. I know well that I shall receive a mortal wound, but
I will do it gladly to win thy heart. Now I beseech thee for
the love I bear thee that thou love me at least after my death,
since thou would's" not in my lifetime." Thus did
the king. He freed her of her enemies and was himself wounded
and slain in the end. Through a miracle he arose from death
to life. Would not that same lady be of an evil kind if she
did not love him above all things after this?'

'The king is Jesus Christ, the Son of God,
who in this wise wooed our Soul which the devils had beset.
And He as a noble wooer, after many messengers and many good
deeds, came to prove His love and showed through knighthood
that He was worthy of love, as sometime knights were wont
to do. He entered in a tournament, and as a bold knight had
His shield pierced everywhere in the fight for His lady's
love.'

The likeness between the shield and Christ's
body is further dwelt upon. The image of His crucified form
hangs suspended [323] in church, as 'after the death of a
valiant knight, men hang up his shield high in church to his
memory.'

There is more on the theme of love that is
very fine. The ideas generated by knighthood are obviously
present to the mind of the writer.

Interesting also is his classification of the
different kinds of love. The love of good friends ("ode
iueren) is first mentioned, but higher than that is the love
between man and woman, and even higher still that between
mother and child, for the mother to cure her child of disease
is ready to make a bath of her blood for it. Higher again
is the love of the body to the soul, but the love which Christ
bears to His dear spouse, the soul, surpasses them all.

'Thy love,' says our Lord, 'is either to be
freely given or it is to be sold, or it is to be stolen and
to be taken with force. If it is to be given, where could's"
thou bestow it better than on me ? Am I not of all the fairest
? Am I not the richest king ? Am I not of noblest birth? Am
I not in wealth the wisest? Am I not the most courteous? Am
I not the most liberal of men ? For so it is said of a liberal
man that he can withhold nothing; that his hands are perforated
as mine are. Am I not of all the sweetest and most gentle?
Thus in me all reasons thou may'st find for bestowing thy
love, if thou lovest chaste purity; for no one can love me
save she hold by that.-But if thy love is not to be given
but is to be sold, say at what price; either for other love
or for something else? Love is well sold for love, and so
love should be sold and for nought else. If thy love is thus
to be sold, I have bought it with love surpassing all other.
For of the four kinds of love, I have shown thee the best
of them all. And if thou sayest that thou wilt not let it
go cheaply and askest for more, name what it shall be. Set
a price on thy love. Thou canst not name so much but I will
give thee for thy love much more. Wouldest thou have castles
and kingdoms ? Wouldest thou govern the world ? I am purposed
to do better; I am purposed to make thee withal queen of heaven.
Thou shalt be sevenfold brighter than the sun; no evil shall
harm thee, no creature shall vex thee, no joy shall be wanting
to thee; thy will shall be done in heaven and on earth; yea,
even in hell.'

And in a further development of this idea all
imaginable good, Croesus' wealth, Absalom's beauty, Asahel's
swiftness, Samson's strength, are held out as a reward to
the soul who responds to [324] the wooing of Christ and gives
herself entirely into His keeping. 'This love,' says the author
in conclusion, ' is the rule which governs the heart.'

The last part of the book (pp. 410 - 431) appears
to be appended as an after-thought, as it treats once more
of domestic matters. 'I said before at the beginning,' says
the author, 'that ye ought not, like unwise people, to promise
to keep any of the outward rules. I say the same still, nor
do I write them save for you alone. I say this in order that
recluses may not say that I by my authority make new rules
for them. Nor do I command that they shall hold them, and
you may change them whenever you will for better ones. Of
things that have been in use before it matters little.' Practical
directions follow which throw a further light on the position
and conduct of the recluse, and which in many particulars
are curiously like the injunctions which form the opening
part of the letter of Ailred. The recluses shall partake of
Communion on fifteen days of the year; they shall eat twice
a day between Easter and Roodmass (September 14), during the
other half year they shall fast save on Sundays; and they
shall not eat flesh or lard except in sickness. 'There are
recluses,' says the writer, 'who have meals with their friends
outside. That is too much friendship; for all orders it is
unsuitable, but chiefly for the order of recluses who are
dead to the world.' A recluse shall not be liberal of other
men's alms, for housewifery is Martha's part and not hers.
'Martha's office is to feed and clothe poor men as the mistress
of a house; Mary ought not to intermeddle in it, and if any
one blame her, God Himself the supreme defends her for it,
as holy writ bears witness. On the other hand a recluse ought
only to take sparingly that which is necessary for her. Whereof,
then, may she make herself liberal? She must live upon alms
as frugally as ever she can, and not gather that she may give
it away afterwards. She is not a housewife but a Church ancre.
If she can spare any fragments to the poor, let her send them
quietly out of her dwelling. Sin is oft concealed under the
semblance of goodness. And how shall those rich anchoresses
who are tillers of the ground, or have fixed rents, do their
alms privately to poor neighbours ? Desire not to have the
reputation of bountiful anchoresses, nor, in order to give
much, be too eager to possess more. Greediness is at the root
of bitterness: all the boughs that spring from it are bitter.
To beg in order to give away is not the part of a recluse.
From the courtesy of a recluse [325] and from her liberality,
sin and shame have often come in the end.'

This idea, that the recluse shall follow the
example of Mary and not that of Martha, occurs also in Ailred's
letter, though it is more briefly stated (c. 41 ff.).

You shall possess no beast, my dear sisters,'
says the author of the Ancren Rimle, 'except only a cat. A
recluse who has cattle appears as Martha was.' She thinks
of the fodder, of the herdsman, thoughts which bring with
them traffic. 'A recluse who is a buyer and seller (cheapild)
selleth her soul to the Chapman of hell.' Ailred similarly
warned his 'sister' against keeping flocks (c. 5 ff.). But
the author of the Riwle allows the recluse to keep
a cow if need be. 'Do not take charge,' he says, 'of other
men's things in your house, nor of their property, nor of
their clothes, neither receive under your care the church
vestments nor the chalice, unless compelled thereto, for oftentimes
much harm has come from such caretaking.' The clothes the
sisters wear shall be warm and simple, 'be they white, be
they black; only see that they be plain and warm and well-made.'
He warns them against severe discipline by the use of hair-cloth
and hedgehogskins, and against scourging with a leathern thong.
He desires them to have all needful clothing, but forbids
wearing rings, brooches, ornamented girdles and gloves. The
recluse shall 'make no purses to gain friends therewith, nor
blodbendes of silk; but shape and sew and mend church vestments,
and poor people's clothes.' The point Ailred in his rule strongly
insisted upon, the command that the recluse shall not keep
a school as some recluses do, is reiterated by the author
of the Ancren Riwle, for the excitement it brings and
the personal affection it creates between teacher and pupil
are felt to be fraught with danger. If there be a girl who
needs to be taught, the recluse shall cause her to be instructed
by her servant, for she shall keep two servants, the one to
stay at home, the other to go abroad, 'whose garments shall
be of such shape and their attire such that their calling
be obvious.' The recluse shall read the concluding part of
this book to her women once a week, but she herself is to
read in it daily if she have leisure.

Such in brief outline is the Ancren Riwle,
a book which above all others gives an insight into the religious
life as apprehended [326] in the l3th century in England;
a book which, written for women--the number of whom can never
have been great, contains much that remains wise and instructive
to this day, owing to its wide outlook and liberal spirit.
It gives the very highest opinion of the author's gentleness
and refinement, and of the exalted sentiments of the women
he was addressing.

This is not the place to dwell on the numerous
spiritual lovesongs which were written in English at this
period under the influence of mystic tendencies; but it must
be pointed out that those which breathe the love of a woman's
soul to Christ were presumably written in the interest of
nuns. Among them is one in prose, entitled the 'Wooing of
Our Lord,' written by its author for his 'sister,' which has
a certain likeness to the 'Ancren Riwle,' and on this ground
has been ascribed to the same author. Probably it is a paraphrase
of part of it, but it has none of the harmonious flow of the
treatise itself, and its tone is so much more emotional, that
it looks like the production of a later age.

The idea of the exaltation of virginity at
this period further led to the re-writing in English of the
legends of women-saints whose stories turn on the might of
virginity in conflict with the evil powers of this world.
Among them the legends of St Margaret, St Juliana and St Cecilia,
are extant in a manuscript of about the year 1230. Their authorship
is unknown, but they were evidently written in the first place
for religious women.

In conclusion a few words must be said on a
treatise written about the same time called 'Holy Maidenhood'
(Hall Meidenhad), the interest of which lies in the fact that
while advocating the same cause as the writings discussed
above, it is quite untouched by their spirit. Here also the
advantages of the love of Christ over love for earthly things
are enlarged on, and the superiority of the 'free' maiden
over her who has embraced family life is upheld. But this
is done in a broad familiar strain and with repeated fierce
attacks on marriage.

The author ornaments his treatise with Biblical
quotations, but he possesses none of the courtly grace and
elegance of diction of Thomas de Hales and the author of the
Ancren Riwle. In form the treatise answers to its drift,
for it is written in an alliterative homely style which gives
it a peculiar interest from the philological [327] point of
view. Looked at from the religious standpoint it yields a
curious example of what the tone and temper would be of one
who, grasping the moral drift of the age, remained a stranger
to its tenderer strains. At the same time its author is not
without considerable insight into the realities of life and
has a sense of humour usually absent in mystic writings. The
following passage which dwells on some of the annoyances of
married life give a good example of this (p. 37).

'And how I ask, though it may seem odious,
how does the wife stand who when she comes in hears her child
scream, sees the cat at the flitch, and the hound at the hide?
Her cake is burning on the stone hearth, her calf is sucking
up the milk, the earthen pot is overflowing into the fire
and the churl is scolding. Though it be an odious tale, it
ought, maiden, to deter thee more strongly from marriage,
for it does not seem easy to her who has tried it. Thou, happy
maiden, who hast fully removed thyself out of that servitude
as a free daughter of God and as His Son's spouse, needest
not suffer anything of the kind. Therefore, happy maiden,
forsake all such sorrow for the reward reserved to thee as
thou oughtest to do without any reward. Now I have kept my
promise, that I would show that to be glazed over with falsehood,
which some may say and think of as true: the happiness and
sweetness which the wedded have. For it fares not as those
think who look at it from the outside; it happens far otherwise
with the poor and the rich, with those who loathe and those
who love each other, but the vexation in every case exceeds
the joy, and the loss altogether surpasses the gain.'

The writer then recommends Christ as a spouse
and gives a graphic description of pride, which he considers
a power equal to that of the devil. He has such a lively horror
of pride and thinks its effects so baneful that, should the
maidenhood he has been extolling be touched by it, its prerogative,
he says, forthwith breaks down. 'A maid as regards the grace
of maidenhood surpasses the widowed and the wedded, but a
mild wife or meek widow is better than a proud maiden,'--a
distinction which is curious and I believe stands alone at
this early period. The saints Catharine, Margaret, Agnes,
Juliana and Cecilia are quoted as maidens of irreproachable
meekness.

The treatise 'Hall Meidenhad' exists in one
copy only, and there is no evidence as to how much it was
read. Its obvious purpose is to encourage girls to become
nuns, and this not so [328] much on account of the beauties
of convent life, as because of the troubles in worldly life
they would escape by doing so.

Section 2. The Convent of Helfta and its
Literary Nuns.

The mystic writings with which the present
chapter has hitherto dealt are works written for nuns, not
by them, for of all the English mystic writings of the l3th
century, womanly though they often are in tone, none can claim
to be the production of a woman. It is different on the Continent,
where the mystic literature of the 13th century is largely
the production of nuns, some of whom have secured wide literary
fame. Their writings, which were looked upon by their contemporaries
as divinely inspired, are among the most impassioned books
of the age. They claim the attention both of the student of
art and the student of literature. For strong natures who
rebelled against the conditions of ordinary life, but were
shut out from the arena of intellectual competition, found
an outlet for their aspirations in intensified emotionalism,
and this emotionalism led to the development of a wealth of
varying imagery which subsequently became the subject-matter
of pictorial art. In course of time the series of images offered
and suggested by Scripture had been supplemented by a thousand
floating fancies and a mass of legendary conceits, which were
often based on heathen conceptions; and the 13th century mystic
first tried to fix and interpret these in their spiritual
application. His endeavours may appear to some a dwelling
on fruitless fancies, but since this imagery in its later
representations, especially in painting, has become a thing
of so much wonder and delight, the writers who first tried
to realise and describe these conceptions deserve at least
respectful attention.

The convent of Helfta near Eisleben in Saxony
stands out during the 13th century as a centre of these mystic
tendencies and of contemporary culture, owing to the literary
activity of its nuns. All the qualities which make early mysticism
attractive,--moral elevation, impassioned fervour, intense
realism and an almost boundless imagination,--are here found
reflected in the [329] writings of three women, who were inmates
of the same convent, and worked and wrote contemporaneously.

The convent to which these women belonged was
of the Benedictine order. It had been founded in 1229 by Burkhardt,
Count von Mansfield, and his wife Elisabeth, for the use of
their two daughters and for other women who wished to join
them in a religious life. So many of the daughters of the
Thuringian nobility flocked thither that the convent was removed
in 1234 to more spacious accommodation at Rodardesdorf, and
again in 1258 to a pleasanter and more suitable site at Helfta.

The convent was then under the abbess Gertrud
of the noble family of Hackeborn, whose rule (1251-1291) marks
a climax in the prosperity and influence of the house. The
convent numbered over a hundred nuns, and among them were
women distinguished in other ways besides writing. In the
annals of the house mention is made of Elisabeth and Sophie,
daughters of Hermann von Mansfeld;--the former was a good
painter, and the latter transcribed numerous books and held
the office of prioress for many years before she succeeded
Gertrud as abbess. Reference is also made to the nun Mechthild
van Wippra († c. 1300), who taught singing, an art zealously
cultivated by these nuns.

This enthusiasm for studies of all kinds was
inspired in the first place by the abbess Gertrud, of whose
wonderful liberality of mind and zeal for the advance of knowledge
we read in an account written soon after her death by members
of her convent. She was endlessly zealous in collecting books
and in setting her nuns to transcribe them. 'This too she
insisted on,' says the account, 'that the girls should be
instructed in the liberal arts, for she said that if the pursuit
of knowledge (studium scientiae) were to perish, they would
no longer be able to understand holy writ, and religion together
with devotion would disappear.' Latin was well taught and
written with ease by various members of the convent. The three
women writers who have given the house lasting fame were Mechthild,--who
was not educated at the convent but came there about the year
1268, and who is usually spoken of as the beguine or sister
Mechthild,--the nun and saint Mechthild von Hackeborn, the
sister of the abbess Gertrud, who was educated in the convent
and there had visions between 1280 and 1300,--and Gertrud--known
in literature as Gertrud the Great. Her [329] name being the
same as that of the abbess caused at one time a confusion
between them.

The writings of these nuns were composed under
the influence of the same mystic movement which was spreading
over many districts of Europe, and therefore they contain
ideas and descriptions which, forming part of the imaginative
wealth of the age, are nearly related to what is contemporaneously
found elsewhere. In numerous particulars the writings of these
nuns bear a striking resemblance to the imagery and descriptions
introduced into the Divine Comedy by Dante. Struck by this
likeness, and bent upon connecting Matelda of the Purgatorio
with a real person, several modern students have recognised
her prototype in one of the writers named Mechthild.

The writings of both these women are anterior
in date to the composition of the Divine Comedy, and as they
were accepted by the Dominicans, certainly had a chance of
being carried into distant districts. But there is no proof
that Dante had either of these writers in his mind when he
wrote in the Purgatorio of Matelda as appearing in
an earthly paradise to the poet on the other side of the river
Lethe.

'A lady all alone, she went along

Singing and culling flower after flower,

With which the pathway was all studded o'er.

"Ah, beauteous lady, who in rays of love

Dost warm thyself, if I may trust to looks,

Which the heart's witnesses are wont to be,

May the desire come unto thee to draw

Near to this river's bank," I said to
her,

"So much that I may hear what thou art
singing."'

It is she who makes the triumph of the Church
apparent to the poet while Beatrice descends to him from heaven.

Without entering into this controversy, it
is interesting to note the similarity of the visions in which
Mechthild van Hackeborn describes heaven, and those which
Mechthild of Magdeburg draws of hell, to the descriptions
of the greatest of Italian poets.

In order to gain an idea of the interests which
were prominent at the convent at Helfta it will be well to
treat of the lives, history [331] and writings of its three
women writers in succession,--the beguine Mechthild,--the
nun Mechthild,--and the nun Gertrud. Their characters and
compositions bear marked points of difference.

Mechthild the beguine was born about 1212 and
lived in contact with the world, perhaps at some court, till
the age of twenty-three, when she left her people and came
to Magdeburg to adopt the religious life. She was led to take
this step by a troubled conscience, which was no doubt occasioned
by her coming into contact with Dominican friars. At this
time they were making a great stir in Saxony, and Mechthild's
brother Balduin joined their order. Mechthild lived at Magdeburg
for many years in a poor and humble way in a settlement of
beguines, but at last she was obliged to seek protection in
a nunnery, because she had drawn upon herself the hatred of
the clergy.

The origin and position of the bands of women
called beguines deserve attention, for the provisions made
for them are evidently the outcome of a charitable wish to
provide for homeless women, and to prevent their vagrancy
and moral degradation. The name given to these women lies
in great obscurity. It is sometimes connected with a priest
of Liege (Lüttich) Lambert le Bègue (the stammerer,
† 1172), a reformer in his way whose work recalls that
of the founders of orders of combined canons and nuns, and
who was very popular among women of all classes and advocated
their association. Many settlements of beguines were founded
in the towns of Flanders and Brabant, some of which have survived
to this day; and in Gentian towns also the plan was readily
adopted of setting aside a house in the town, for the use
of poor women who, being thus provided with a roof over their
heads, were then left to support themselves as best they could,
by begging, or by sick nursing, or by the work of their hands.
These women were not bound by any vow to remain in the house
where they dwelt, and were not tied down to any special routine.
This freedom led to different results among them. In some
instances they were attracted by mysticism; in others they
advocated ideas which drew on them the reproach of heresy
and gave rise to Papal decrees condemning them; in others
again they drifted into ways which were little to their credit
and caused them to be classed with loose women.

[332] In one of the houses allotted to these
women in Magdeburg Mechthild spent the years between 1235
and 1268, and during that time, under the encouragement of
the Dominican friars, she wrote prayers, meditations, reflections
on the times, and short accounts of spiritual visions, some
in prose, some in verse, which had a wide circulation. The
fact of their being written in German at a time when writings
of the kind in German were few, was the cause of their being
read in lay as well as in religious circles. These writings
were afterwards collected, presumably in the order of their
composition, by a Dominican friar who issued them under the
title of 'The Flowing Light of Divinity.' Six of the seven
books into which the work is divided were composed before
Mechthild went to Helfta, and the visions and reflections
she wrote after her admission were grouped together in the
seventh book. These writings were originally issued in the
German of the north, but the only German copy now extant is
a south German transcript, which was written for the mystics
of Switzerland. The work was translated into Latin during
Mechthild's lifetime by a Dominican friar, but his collection
only contains the first six books, the contents of which are
arranged in a different order. Both the German and the Latin
versions have recently been reprinted.

Among these writings were several severely
critical and condemnatory of the clergy of Magdeburg, who
resented these attacks and persecuted Mechthild. On this account
she sought admission at Helfta, which was not far distant
from Halle, where her special friend the Dominican friar Heinrich
was living. The nuns at Helfta were on friendly terms with
the Dominicans, who frequently visited them, and it appears
that the nun Gertrud the Great knew of the writings of the
beguine and advocated her admission to the nunnery. She came
there in 1268 and lived there for about twelve years; passages
in the writings of her fellow nuns refer to her death and
burial.

With regard to her writings we are struck by
their diversified contents, by their variety in form, and
by their many-sided sympathies. The 'Flowing Light of Divinity'
(Fliessende Licht der [333] Gottheit), consists of a collection
of shorter and longer compositions, some in poetry, some in
prose, which may be roughly classed as spiritual poems and
love-songs, allegories, visions, and moral reflections or
aphorisms. Against mysticism the charge has been brought that
it led to no activity in theological thought and did not produce
any religious reformation, but surely enquiries into the nature
of the soul and its relation to God such as these are full
of speculative interest, and have played no small part in
paving the way towards a more rational interpretation of the
position of man with regard to faith, to merit, to retribution
and to the other great questions of dogma.

Turning first to the poems which treat of spiritual
love, many are in dialogue, a form much used by the Minnesingers
of the age but rarely by its religious poets. Among them is
a dialogue between the Soul and the queen Love, who sits enthroned.
The Soul accuses Love (spiritual love of course) of robbing
her of a liking for the goods of this world, but Love justifies
herself by saying that she has given to the Soul instead all
that constitutes her true happiness. In another dialogue the
Soul exclaims in wonder at Love, who in eloquent strains describes
the power that is within her. By this power she drove Christ
from heaven to earth; is it then to be wondered at that she
can capture and hold fast a soul ?

One of the longer pieces, less complete in
form but more complex in ideas, describes how a call comes
to the Soul, and how she urges her servants the Senses to
help her to adorn herself to go forth to the dance, that her
craving for joy may be satisfied. The Soul justifies her desire
in strains such as these:

'The fish in the water do not drown, the birds
in the air are not lost,

The gold in the furnace does not vanish but
there attains its glow.

God has given to every creature to live according
to its desire,

Why then should I resist mine ?'

The Soul then describes the various experiences
which led to her union with Christ, which she expresses in
passionate strains suggestive of the Song of Solomon.

[334] Again, we have the Soul complaining to
Love of the ties which bind her to the body, and Love directs
her how to overcome them. Understanding too discourses with
the Soul, and the Soul admits the greater capacities of Understanding,
but she insists that Understanding owes to her the capacity
both of contemplation and spiritual enjoyment. In other poems
like points of abstract interest are touched upon. One of
the most curious of these productions is a dialogue in which
Understanding converses with Conscience and expresses surprise
at Conscience, whose attitude is one of proud humility. Conscience
explains that her pride comes through her contact with God,
and that her humility is due to her contrition at having done
so few good works.

The question of how far good works are necessary
to salvation, in other words justification by faith versus
justification by works, is a thought prominent in the beguine's
mind, and gives the keynote to a curious and interesting allegory
on admission to the communion of the saints. A poor girl longing
to hear mass felt herself transported into the church of heaven,
where at first she could see no one. Presently youths entered
strewing flowers,-- white flowers beneath the church tower,
violets along the nave, roses before the Virgin's altar, and
lilies throughout the choir. Others came and lighted candles,
and then John the Baptist entered bearing the lamb, which
he set on the altar and prepared to read mass. John the Evangelist
came next, St Peter and so many more of heaven's inmates that
the poor girl felt there was no room left for her in the nave
of the church. She went and stood beneath the tower among
people who wore crowns, 'but the beauty of hair, which comes
from good works, they had not. How had they come into heaven
? Through repentance and good intention.' There were others
with them so richly clad that the girl felt ashamed of her
appearance and went into the choir, where she saw the Virgin,
St Catherine, holy Cecilia, bishops, martyrs and angels. But
suddenly she too was decked with a splendid cloak, and the
Virgin beckoned to her to stand by her side. Prompted by the
Virgin she then took part in the religious service and was
led to the altar, where John the Baptist let her kiss the
wounds of the lamb. 'She [335] to whom this happened is dead,'
says the writer, 'but we hope to find her again among the
choir of angels.'

This allegory was severely censured, and in
a later chapter Mechthild says that a 'Pharisee' argued that
it was forbidden for a layman, like John the Baptist, to hold
mass. Mechthild's arguments in reply to the charge are somewhat
involved, but she boldly declares that John, who was in close
communion with God, was better fitted in some respects to
say mass than Pope, bishop or priest.

With Mechthild, John the Baptist, John the
Evangelist and St Peter, patron saint of the Dominicans, stand
foremost among the saints of heaven. There is a beautiful
account of a Soul who found herself in company with God and
the saints, who each in turn explained how they had helped
to bring her there.

Glimpses of heaven and hell are frequent in
these writings, and a full description of hell and one of
paradise deserve special attention from the point of view
of medieval imagery. Hell is here characterized as the seat
of Eternal Hatred, which is built in the deepest depths from
stones of manifold wickedness. Pride, as shown in Lucifer,
forms the foundation-stone; then come the stones of disobedience,
covetousness, hatred and lewdness, brought thither through
acts of Adam. Cain brought anger, ferocity, and warfare, and
Judas brought lying, betrayal, despair and suicide. The building
formed by these stones is so arranged that each part of it
is occupied by those who were specially prone to the various
sins. In its depths sits Lucifer, above him Christians, Jews
and heathens, according to the kind of crime committed by
each. The horrors of their sufferings recall those pictured
by Herrad, and at a later period by Dante and Orcagna. The
usurer is gnawed, the thief hangs suspended by his feet, murderers
continually receive wounds, and gluttons swallow red-hot stones
and drink sulphur and pitch. 'What seemed sweetness here is
there turned into bitterness. The sluggard is loaded with
grief, the wrathful are struck with fiery thongs. The poor
musician, who had gleefully fed wicked vanity, weeps more
tears in hell than there is water in the sea.' Many horrible
and impressive scenes, such as the medieval mind loved to
dwell upon, are depicted.

The picture drawn of paradise is correspondingly
fair. According [336] to the beguine there is an earthly and
a heavenly paradise. Regarding the earthly paradise she says:
'There is no limit to its length and breadth. First I reached
a spot lying on the confines of this world and paradise. There
I saw trees and leaves and grass, but of weeds there were
none. Some trees bore fruit, but most of them sweet-scented
leaves. Rapid streams cut through the earth, and warm winds
blew from the south. In the waters mingled earth's sweetness
and heaven's delight. The air was sweet beyond expression.
But of birds and animals there were none, for God has reserved
this garden for human beings to dwell there undisturbed.'
In this garden Mechthild finds Enoch and Elias who explain
what keeps them there. Then she sees the higher regions of
paradise in which dwell the souls who are waiting to enter
the kingdom of God, 'floating in joy as the air floats in
the sunshine,' says Mechthild; and she goes on to explain
how on the Day of Judgment paradise will altogether cease
to exist and its inhabitants will be absorbed into heaven.

The beguine's writings contain various references
to herself and her compositions, and considerable praise of
the Dominican friars. In one place she describes how she was
told that her writings deserved to be burnt, but she turned
in prayer to God as was her wont from childhood, and He told
her not to doubt her powers for they came through Him. 'Ah
Lord,' she exclaimed in reply, 'were I a learned man, a priest,
in whom thou hadst made manifest this power, thou would's"
see him honoured, but how can they believe that on such unworthy
ground thou hast raised a golden house?. . . .Lord, I fail
to see the reason of it.' But the attacks against her roused
her to anger, and she closes the poem with a stern invective
against those who are false.

Another passage contains an autobiographical
sketch of Mechthild's early experiences. She says that when
she was twelve years old she felt drawn to things divine,
and from that time to the present, a period of thirty-one
years, she had been conscious of God's grace and had been
saved from going astray. 'God is witness,' she continues,
'that I never consciously prayed to be told what is written
in this book; it never occurred to me that such things could
come to anyone. While I spent my youth with friends and relations
to whom I was most dear, I had no knowledge of such things.
Yet I always wished to be humble, and [337] from love of God
I came to a place (Magdeburg) where with one exception I had
no friends.' She describes how at that time two angels and
two devils were her companions, and were to her the representatives
of the good and evil tendencies of which she was conscious.
The devils spoke to her of her physical beauty, promised fame
'such as has led astray many an unbeliever,' and prompted
her to rebellion and unchastity. Obviously her passionate
nature rose against the mode of life she had adopted, but
the thought of Christ's sufferings at last brought her comfort.
She was much perturbed by her power of writing. 'Why not give
it to learned folk ?' she asked of God, but God was angered
with her, and her father-confessor pressed upon her that writing
was her vocation. In another impassioned account she describes
how she was oppressed by a devil.

In the third book of her writings Mechthild
says that God pointed out to her the seven virtues which priests
ought to cultivate, and we gather from this that she did not
consider the clergy devout or pure-minded. In further passages
she dilates on the duties of prelate, prior and prioress,
and severely attacks the conduct of a deacon of Magdeburg.
Even more explicit in its severity to the priesthood is an
account of how God spoke to her, and told her that He would
touch the Pope's heart and make him utter a prayer, which
is given, and in which the Pope declaims against the conduct
of his clergy who are 'straightway going to hell.' In the
Latin translation God's admonition is amplified by the following
passages: 'For thus says the Lord: I will open the ear of
the highest priest and touch his heart with the woe of my
wrath, because my shepherds of Jerusalem have become robbers
and wolves before my very eyes. With cruelty they murder my
lambs and devour them. The sheep also are worn and weary because
you call them from healthy pastures, in your godlessness do
not suffer them to graze on the heights on green herbs, and
with threats and reproof prevent their being tended with healthful
teaching and healthful advice by those men who are supported
by faith and knowledge. He who knows not the way that leads
to hell and would know it, let him look at the life and [338]
morals of the base and degenerate clergy, who, given to luxury
and other sins, through their impious ways are inevitably
going the way to hell.'

The friars, it is said, must come to the rescue
and reform the world, and Mechthild being especially inclined
to the Dominicans dwells on their usefulness to true faith
in a number of passages. There is a long description of how
God saw that His Son, with the apostles, martyrs, confessors
and virgins, was unable to lead back the people who had gone
astray, and therefore He sent into the world two other children,
that is the two orders of friars, to save them. In another
vision God explains to Mechthild the special purpose for which
He has lately sent five new saints into the world, one of
whom is Elisabeth of Thuringen 'whom I sent,' said the Lord,
'to those wretched ladies who sit in castles with much unchastity,
puffed up with conceit, and so absorbed by vanities that they
ought to be cast into the nether regions. Many a lady however
has now followed her example in what measure she would or
could.' The other saints are Dominic, who has been sent to
reclaim unbelievers,-Francis, who has come as a warning to
covetous priests and conceited laymen,--a new St Peter, the
Martyr († 1252),-and the sister Jutta von Sangershausen.
History tells us of Peter that he was appointed inquisitor
against the heretics in Lombardy and murdered at their instigation;
and of Jutta that, having lost her husband in 1260, she placed
her children in convents and went among the heathen Prussians
where she tended the leprous till her death four years afterwards.
From later passages in the writings of Mechthild, written
after she had come to live at Helfta, it appears that she
felt that faith was not increasing in the world; perhaps she
was disappointed in her exalted anticipations of the influence
of the friars.

The writings of Mechthild of this later period
are more mystic and visionary than those of earlier days.
She is distressed at the troublous times that have come to
Saxony and Thuringen, [339] and tells how she fell ill and
was so perturbed that she lost the power of prayer for seventeen
days. Many prayers and visions, some of great sweetness and
beauty, were the production of these later days. A long allegory
called the 'Spiritual Convent or Ghostly Abbey' shows the
high opinion she had of life in a nunnery. In this poem the
inmates of the convent are personified as the Virtues, an
idea occasionally used during the Middle Ages, and one which
at a later date in England, as we shall hear afterwards, was
handled in a very different mariner, the convent inmates being
represented as the Vices. In Mechthild's convent Charity is
abbess, Meekness is chaplain, Peace is prioress, Kindliness
is sub-prioress, and among the inmates of the convent there
is Hope the singing-mistress, and Wisdom the schoolmistress
'who with good counsel carefully instructs the ignorant, so
that the nunnery is held holy and honoured.' Bounty is cellaress,
Mercy sees to the clothes, laity tends the sick, and Dread
sits at the gate. The provost or priest is Obedience, 'to
whom all these Virtues are subject. Thus does the convent
abide before God,' the poem ends,'...happy are they who dwell
there.'

The writings of Mechthild offer many more points
of interest. Not the least curious among her compositions
are the amplified descriptions of biblical history, as of
the Creation, the Nativity, and the early experiences of the
Virgin, which enter minutely into the feelings and emotions
of those immediately concerned and give them an allegorical
and spiritualized application. Short spiritual poems are also
numerous, but so much depends on their form that a translation
cannot convey their chief beauty. Their general drift is exemplified
by the two following.

'It is a wondrous journeying onwards, this
progress of the Soul, who guides the Senses as the man who
sees leads him who is blind. Fearlessly the Soul wanders on
without grief of heart, for she desires nought but what the
Lord wills who leads all to the best.'

Thoughts such as these are found scattered
up and down in the beguine's writings, and give one a high
estimation of her poetic power, her ready imagination and
her mastery of language. Her vigorous nature guided into the
channel of spiritual aspirations frequently filled her poems
with a passionate eloquence.

In conclusion may stand a few of the beguine's
moral reflections, which, if they are not borrowed from elsewhere,
argue well for her power of condensing thoughts into short
sentences; but here also it is not easy to find the exact
words in which to render the chief points of these reflections.

'Vanity does not stop to think what she is
losing;

Perseverance is laden with virtues.

Stupidity is ever self-sufficient;

The wisest never comes to the end of what he
would say.

Anger brings darkness unto the soul;

Gentleness is ever sure of attaining grace.

Pride would ever raise herself aloft;

Lowliness is ever ready to yield...

Sluggishness will never gain wealth;

The industrious seeks more than his immediate
advantage.'

And the following,--which are the product of
a later period and have in them the ring of a deeper experience--'None
knows how firm he stands, until he has experienced the prompting
of desire; none how strong he is, until hatred has attacked
him; none how good he is, before he has attained a happy end.'

From the writings of the beguine Mechthild
we pass to those of her companion at Helfta, the nun Mechthild
von Hackeborn. Her 'Book of Special Grace" consists entirely
of visions or revelations described by her and put into writing
by her fellow-nuns; it was widely read, and gave rise to similar
productions in other nunneries. There are many early manuscript
copies of the book in existence; it was originally written
in Latin, but has been translated into German, English, Italian
and French, and has repeatedly been printed.

[314] The visions are so arranged that those
contained in the first part of the book have reference to
festal days of the Church, to Christ, Mary and the saints.
The second part treats of the manifestations of divine grace
of which Mechthild was conscious in herself, and the third
and fourth describe how God should be praised and what is
conducive to salvation or 'soul-hele.' In the fifth part Mechthild
holds converse with those who have departed this life, chiefly
members of the convent, for the belief that it was possible
to hold communion with the souls of the departed was readily
accepted at Helfta as in other religious houses.

A sixth and seventh part were added to Mechthild's
book after her death by her fellow-nuns and contain information
about her sister, the abbess Gertrud, and details about Mechthild's
death and the visions other nuns had of her.

The nun Mechthild von Hackeborn, who was nine
years younger than her sister Gertrud, had come to the house
as a child on a visit with her mother, and was so much attracted
to it that she remained there. She is described by her fellow-nuns
as a person of tender and delicate refinement, whose religious
fervour was remarkable, and these characteristics are reflected
in her writings. She was often suffering, noticeably at the
time when her sister, the abbess Gertrud, died (1291). She
is praised for her lovely voice, and references to music and
singing in her visions are frequent. It is not quite clear
when her fellow-nuns began to put her visions into writing,
presumably between 1280 and 1300, and authorities also differ
on the year of her death, which the Benedictines of Solesmes
accept as 1298, whereas Preger defers it till 1310.

In the description of her visions Mechthild
van Hackeborn appears throughout as a person of even temper
and great sweetness of disposition, one who was not visited
by picturesque temptations, troubles and doubts, and who therefore
insisted chiefly on the beautiful side of things; for hell
with its torments and the whole mise-en-scène of the
nether regions have no meaning and no attraction for her.
In her revelations Christ, the Virgin, and other members of
the vast hierarchy of heaven enter as living realities. She
is particularly fond of the angels, whom she loves to picture
as the associates of men on earth and in heaven. In conformity
with the conceptions of her age Christ is to her the wooer
of the soul, [342] the chosen bridegroom, who combines all
that makes humanity attractive and divinity sublime. Christ
and the Virgin love to confer with Mechthild, or rather with
her Soul,--the terms are used indiscriminately,--and enter
into converse with her whenever she seeks enlightenment. Flowers
and precious stones, the splendour of vestments, and occasionally
some homely object, supply her with similes and comparisons.

The following descriptions occurring in visions
will give some idea of the spirit in which Mechthild wrote.

' After the feast of St Michael...she saw a
golden ascent divided into nine grades, crowded by a multitude
of angels, and the first grade was presided over by angels,
the second by archangels and so on upwards, each order of
angels presiding over one grade. She was divinely informed
that this ascent represented the abode of men in this way,--that
whoever faithfully, humbly, and devotedly fulfils his duty
to the Church of God, and for God's sake, to the infirm, to
the poor and to travellers, abides in the first grade, consorting
with the angels. Again, they who by prayer and devotion are
closer to God and in nearness to Him, are devoted to knowledge
of Him, to His teaching and help, are in the next grade and
are the companions of the archangels. Those again who practice
patience, obedience, voluntary poverty, humility, and bravely
perform all virtues, mount to the next grade with the Virtues.
And those who, opposing vice and greed, hold the fiend and
all his suggestions in contempt, in the fourth grade share
the triumph of glory with the Powers. Prelates who fully respond
to the duties the Church has entrusted to them, who watch
day and night over the salvation of souls and discreetly give
back twofold the talent entrusted to them,--these in the fifth
grade hold the glory of heaven as a recompense of their work
with the Pre-eminences. Again, those who with complete submission
bow before the majesty of the Divine, and who out of love
for Him love the Creator in the created, and love themselves
because they are fashioned after the image of God, who conform
to Hirn as far as human weakness permits, and, holding the
flesh subservient to the spirit, triurnph over their mind
by transferring it to things celestial, these glory in the
sixth grade with the Rulers. But those who are steadfast in
meditation and contemplation, who embracing pureness of heart
and peace of mind make of themselves a temple meet for God,
which [343] truly may be called a paradise, according to Proverbs
(viii. 31) " my delights were with the sons of men,"
and about which it is said (2 Cor. vi. 16) "I will dwell
in them and walk in them," these dwell in the seventh
grade with the Enthroned. Those who outstrip others in knowledge
and apprehension, who by a singular blessedness hold God in
their minds as it were face to face and give back what they
have drawn from the fountain of all wisdom, by teaching and
explaining to others, these abide in the eighth grade of the
ascent together with the Cherubim. And those who love God
with heart and soul, who place their whole being in the eternal
fire which is God itself, love Him not with their own but
with divine love being the chosen ones of God, who see all
creatures in God and love them for His sake, friends as well
as enemies, those whom nothing can divide from God nor stay
in their ascent--for the more their enemies attack them the
more they grow in love,--those who, fervent themselves, awake
fervour in others, so that if they could they would make all
mankind perfect in love, who weep for the sins and faults
of others, because, indifferent to their own glory, they seek
but the glory of God, these shall for evermore dwell in the
ninth grade with the Seraphim, between whom and God there
is nought in closer nearness to Him

'During mass she (Mechthild) saw that a large
number of angels were present, and each angel in guise of
a lovely youth stood by the side of the maiden entrusted to
his care. Some held flowering sceptres, others golden flowers.
And as the maidens bowed they pressed the flowers to their
lips in sign of everlasting peace. Thus angels assisted at
the entire mass.

'And as the maidens advanced to partake of
the communion, each of the angels led her who was entrusted
to his care. And the King of Glory stood in the place of the
priest surrounded by shining splendour, on His breast an ornament
in the shape of a branched tree, and from His heart, in which
lies hidden the wealth of wisdom and knowledge, flowed a stream
which encompassed those who advanced with a flood of heavenly
joy.'

In the preceding passages we see Mechthild
in the state of rapture called forth by the moments of celebration
and service; the extracts which follow describe one of the
divine visitations which came to her as a special manifestation
of grace.

[344] 'On a certain Sunday, while they were
singing the Asperges me, Domine, she said "Lord,
in what wilt thou now bathe and cleanse my heart ?" Straightway
the Lord with love unutterable bending to her as a mother
would to her son, embraced her saying: " In the love
of my divine heart I will bathe thee." And He opened
the door of His heart, the treasure-house of flowing holiness,
and she entered into it as though into a vineyard. There she
saw a river of living water flowing from the east to the west,
and round about the river there were twelve trees bearing
twelve kinds of fruit, that is the virtues which the blessed
Paul enumerates in his epistle: love, joy, peace, long-suffering,
gentleness, goodness, benignity, meekness, faith, modesty,
temperance, chastity. This water is called the river of love;
"hereunto the soul entered and was cleansed of every
stain. In this river there were numerous fish with golden
scales, which signified those loving souls which, separated
from earthly delights, have plunged themselves in the very
well-spring of all good, that is, into Jesus. In the vineyard
palm-trees were planted, some of which stood erect, while
others were bent to the ground. The palms that stand erect
are those who despised the world with its flowers, and who
turned their minds to things divine; and the palms that are
bent down are those wretched ones who lie in the earthly dust
of their misdeeds. The Lord in likeness of a gardener was
digging in the earth, and she said: "O Lord, what is
thy spade?" And He answered: "My fear."--Now
in certain places the earth was hard, in others soft. The
hard earth signified the hearts of those who are hardened
in sin and who know not how to be corrected either by advice
or by reproof; the soft earth the hearts of those who are
softened by tears and true contrition. And our Lord said:
"This vineyard is my Catholic Church, in which for thirty-three
years I laboured with my sweat; do thou labour with me in
this vineyard." And she said: "How ?" To whom
the Lord replied: " By watering it." And straightway
the Soul ran eagerly to the river and set a vessel filled
with water on her shoulders, and as it was heavy, the Lord
came and helped her, and its burden was lightened. And the
Lord said: "Thus when I give grace to men, do all things
performed or borne for my sake seem light and easy. But if
I withdraw my grace, then do all things seem burdensome."
Moreover round about the palms she saw a multitude of angels
like unto a wall...'

In a similar strain the visions of Mechthild
proceed, always [345] gentle and rarely impassioned but shining
with the glow of endlessly changing imagery. There is no limit
to the pictures which rise before her mental eye or to the
points which suggest analogy with things divine.

'To rouse the piety of believers in relation
to the glorious image of our Saviour Jesus Christ, on the
Sunday Omnis terra (the second after Epiphany), that
is on the day when the exposition at Rome of the image of
Christ takes place, she was granted this vision. On a mountain
overgrown with flowers she beheld our Lord seated on a throne
of jasper decorated with gold and red stone. The jasper which
is green is typical of the power of eternal divinity, gold
represents love, and the red stone the sufferings which He
endured through love of us. The mountain was surrounded by
beautiful trees covered with fruit. Under these trees rested
the souls of the saints, each of whom had a tent of cloth
of gold, and they ate of the fruit with great enjoyment. The
hill is emblematic of the mortal life of Christ, the trees
are His virtues, love, pity and others. The saints rest under
different trees according as they adhered to the Lord's different
virtues; those who followed Him in charity, eat of the fruit
of the tree of charity; those who were full of pity, eat of
the fruit of the tree of pity, and so on according to the
virtue each has practiced.

'Then those who were ready to honour the holy
face with a special prayer approached the Lord, carrying on
their shoulders their sins, which they laid at His feet; and
they were forthwith transformed into jewels of glowing gold
(xenia aurea). Those whose repentance had come out of love,
because they were sad at having offended God without having
been punished, saw their sins changed into golden necklaces.
Others who had redeemed them by saying the psalms and other
prayers, had them transformed into golden rings such as are
used at festivals (Dominicalibus). Those who had made restitution
for their sins by their own efforts, saw before them lovely
golden shields; while those who had purified their sins by
bodily suffering, beheld them as so many golden censors, for
bodily chastisement before God is like the sweetness of thyme.'

The following is an example of a homely simile.

[346] 'On a certain occasion she was conscious
of having received an unusual gift through the Lord's bounty,
when feeling her inadequacy she humbly said: " O bounteous
King, this gift, does it befit me who deem myself unworthy
of entering thy kitchen and washing thy platters?" Whereupon
the Lord: "Where is my kitchen and where are the platters
thou wouldst wash ?" She was confounded and said nothing.
But the Lord, who puts questions not that they may be answered
but that He may give answer unto them Himself, made her rejoice
by His reply. He said: " My kitchen is my heart which,
like unto a kitchen that is a common room of the house and
open alike to servants and masters, is ever open to all and
for the benefit of all. The cook in this kitchen is the Holy
Ghost, who kindly without intermission provides things in
abundance and by replenishing them makes things abound again.
My platters are the hearts of saints and of chosen ones, which
are filled from the overflow of the sweetness of my divine
heart."'

From a passage in these books we learn that
a large number of Mechthild's visions had been put into writing
by her fellow-nuns before she was made acquainted with the
fact. For a time she was sorely troubled, then she gained
confidence, reflecting that her power to see visions had come
from God, and indeed she heard a voice from heaven informing
her that her book should be called the 'Book of Special Grace.'

She had all her life been distressed by physical
suffering. During her last illness she was generally unconscious
and her fellow-nuns crowded about her praying that she would
intercede with God in their behalf.

Neither of the Mechthilds makes any reference
in her writings to the nun Gertrud, but Gertrud's works contain
various references to her fellow-nuns, and it is surmised
that Gertrud helped to put the nun Mechthild's visions into
writing before she wrote on her own account. A passage in
her own book of visions refers to revelations generally, and
the Lord explains to her how it is that visions are sometimes
written in one, sometimes in another language. This idea may
have been suggested by the fact that the beguine Mechthild's
writings were in German and the nun Mechthild's in Latin.

[347] Gertrud was very different from both
of these writers in disposition. Probably of humble origin,
she had been given into the care of the convent as a child
(in 1261), and in her development was greatly influenced by
the sisters Gertrud the abbess, and the nun Mechthild von
Hackeborn. Of a passionate and ambitious nature, she devoted
all her energies to mastering the liberal arts, but in consequence
of a vision that came to her at twenty-five, she cast them
aside and plunged into religious study. She mastered the spirit
and contents of Holy Writ so rapidly that she began to expound
them to others. Then she made extracts and collections of
passages from the Fathers, out of which we are told she made
many books. The influence of her personality was such that
'none conversed with her who did not afterwards declare they
had profited by it.' The admiration she aroused among her
fellow-nuns was so great that they declared that God had compared
her to the nun Mechthild and that He said: In this one have
I accomplished great things, but greater things will I accomplish
in Gertrud.' As a proof of her industry we are told that she
was occupied from morning till night translating from Latin
(into German), shortening some passages, amplifying others
'to the greater advantage of her readers.' From another passage
it appears that she compiled a poem (Carmen) from the sayings
(dictis) of the saints, and as an illustration of her moral
attitude we are told that when she was reading the Scriptures
aloud and 'as it happened,' passages occurred which shocked
her by their allusions, she hurried them over quickly or pretended
not to understand them. 'but when it became needful to speak
of such things for some reason of salvation, it was as though
she did not mind, and she overcame her hesitation.' Her great
modesty in regard to her own requirements is insisted on by
her biographer. Many bore witness to the fact that they were
more impressed by her words than by those of celebrated preachers,
for she frequently moved her audience to tears. In addition
the writer feels called upon to mention a few incidents that
happened to Gertrud, giving them a miraculous rendering, no
doubt from a wish to enhance her worth.

The information about Gertrud is supplied by
the first part of her book called 'The Legacy of Divine Piety,'
which as it does[348] not mention Gertrud's death, seems to
have been written while she was alive, perhaps as a preface
to a copy of her revelations. It was only after many years
of study and literary activity that she determined to write
down her personal experiences, and these accounts, written
between 1289 and 1290, form the second part of the book as
it stands at present and constitute its chief and abiding
interest.

The admiration bestowed on the 'Legacy of Divine
Piety' was almost greater than that given to the writings
of the nun Mechthild. The perusal of a chapter will show Gertrud's
attitude of mind. Starting from the occasion when she first
became conscious of a living communion with God, she describes
how step by step she realised an approximation to things divine,
such as reverence, love, and the desire of knowledge alone
can secure. She speaks of experiencing in herself a deeper
religious consciousness which reacted in making her feel herself
unworthy of the special attention of her Creator, and she
continues in this strain:

'If I look back on what the tone of my life
was before and afterwards, in truth I declare that this is
grace I am grateful for and yet unworthy of receiving. For
thou, O Lord, didst grant unto me of the clear light of thy
knowledge to which the sweetness of thy love prompted me more
than any deserved correction of my faults could have done.
I do not recall having felt such happiness save on the days
when thou didst bid me to the delights of thy royal table.
Whether thy wise forethought had so ordained, or my continued
shortcomings were the reason of it, I cannot decide.

'Thus didst thou deal with and rouse my soul
on a day between Resurrection and Ascension when I had entered
the courtyard at an early hour before Prime, and sitting down
by the fishpond was enjoying the beauties of the surroundings
which charmed me by the clearness of the flowing water, the
green of the trees that stood around, and the free flight
of the birds, especially the doves, but above all by the reposeful
quiet of the retired situation. My mind turned on what in
such surroundings would make my joy perfect, and I wished
for a friend, a loving, affectionate and suitable companion,
who would sweeten my solitude. Then thou, O God, author of
joy unspeakable, who as I hope didst favour the beginning
of my meditation and didst complete it, thou didst inspire
me with the thought that if, conscious of thy grace, I flow
back to be joined to thee like the water; if, growing in the
knowledge of virtue like unto [349] these trees, I flower
in the greenness of good deeds; if, looking down on things
earthly in free flight like these doves, I approach heaven,
and, with my bodily senses removed from external turmoil,
apprehend thee with my whole mind, then in joyfulness my heart
will make for thee a habitation.

'My thoughts during the day dwelt on these
matters, and at night, as I knelt in prayer in the dormitory,
suddenly this passage from the Gospel occurred to me (John
xiv. 23), "If a man love me, he will keep my words; and
my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make
our abode with him." And my impure heart felt thee present
therein. O would that an ocean of blood passed over my head
that my miserable inadequacy were washed out now that thou
hast made thy abode with me in dignity inscrutable! Or that
my heart snatched from my body were given to me to cleanse
with glowing coal, so that, freed of its dross, it might offer
thee if not indeed a worthy abode, yet one not altogether
unworthy. Thus, O God, didst thou show thyself from that hour
onwards, sometimes kindly, sometimes stern, in accordance
with my improved or neglectful way of life; though I must
admit that the utmost improvement to which I sometimes momentarily
attained, had it lasted all my life, never had made me worthy
of the least part of the sustenance which I received in spite
of many sins and, alas! of great wickedness. For thy extreme
tenderness shows me thee more grieved than angered by my shortcomings,
a proof to me that the amount of thy forbearance is greater
when thou cost bear with me in my failings, than during thy
mortal life, when thou didst bear with the betrayer Judas.

'When I strayed in mind, tempted away by some
deceitful attraction, and after hours, or alas! after days,
or woe is me! after weeks, returned to my heart, always did
I find thee there, so that I cannot say that thou hast withdrawn
thyself from me from that hour, nine years ago, till eleven
days before the feast of John the Baptist, save on one occasion,
when it happened through some worldly dispute, I believe,
and lasted from Thursday (the fifth feria) to Tuesday (the
second feria). Then on the vigil of St John the Baptist, after
the mass Nec timeas etc., thy sweetness and great charity
came back to me, finding me so forlorn in mind that I was
not even conscious of having lost a treasure, nor thought
of grieving for it, nor was desirous of having it returned,
so that I cannot account for the madness that possessed my
mind, unless indeed it so happened because thou didst wish
me to experience [350] in myself these words of St Bernard:
"We fly and thou pursuest us; we turn our back on thee,
thou comest before us; thou dost ask and art refused; but
no madness, no contempt of ours makes thee turn away who never
art weary, and thou dost draw us on to the joy of which it
is said (I Cor. ii. 9), 'Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard
it, neither has it entered into the heart of man." '

These passages must suffice. Anyone desirous
of following Gertrud through the further experiences which
guided her to the knowledge of God and gave her an insight
into the working of spiritual love must turn to her writings,
which bear the reader onwards in continuous flow, and with
much self-analysis and selfrealisation give evidence of the
conscious joy which develops into rapture in the presence
of the Divine. A passage contained in the last chapter of
the book describes Gertrud's hopes regarding her work, and
fitly summarises her aspirations.

' Behold, beloved God,' she writes, 'I here
deposit the talent of thy most gracious friendship, which,
entrusted to me, the lowliest and least worthy of thy creatures,
I have set forth to the increase of thy power; for I believe
and dare affirm that no reason prompted me to write and speak
but obedience to thy will, desire for thy glory, and zeal
for the salvation of souls. I take thee to witness that I
wish thee praise and thanks, for thy abundant grace withdrew
itself not from me on account of my unworthiness. And herein
also shalt thou find praise, that readers of this book will
rejoice in the sweetness of thy bounty, and, drawn to thee,
learn greater things through it; for as students progress
from first learning the alphabet to acquaintance with logic
(logica), by means of the imagery here described they will
be led to taste of that hidden divine sustenance (manna) which
cannot be expressed even by allegory... Meanwhile in accordance
with thy faithful promise and my humble request, grant to
all who read this book in lowliness that they rejoice in thy
love, bear with my inadequacy, and feel true contrition themselves,
in order that from the golden censors of their loving hearts
a sweet odour may be wafted upwards to thee, making full amends
for my carelessness and shortcomings.'

Before the personal interest of this portion
of the book the other parts written by fellow-nuns fade into
insignificance. They contain accounts of Gertrud's thoughts
on various occasions [351], and are chiefly interesting for
the comments they contain on various accepted saints; we here
see what thoughts were suggested to the Helfta nuns by the
personalities of St Benedict, St Bernard, St Augustine, St
Dominic, St Francis, St Elisabeth, and others. Thus the feast
of St John the Apostle gives rise to an account of him sitting
in heaven, where he keeps the holy record, and writes in different
colours, sometimes in red, sometimes in black, sometimes in
letters of gold-a simile which recalls the art of writing.
The 'Legacy of Divine Piety' of Gertrud has repeatedly been
printed in the original Latin, sometimes in conjunction with
the 'Book of Special Grace' of the nun Mechthild, and, like
the revelations of Mechthild, the writings of Gertrud have
been translated into German and English. Both in their original
form and in selections the writings of these nuns are used
as books of devotion among Catholics to this day, but neither
Gertrud nor Mechthild have till now been given a place in
the Acta Sanctorum.

Gertrud outlived her distinguished contemporaries
at Helfta; she died in 1311, her thoughts having been engrossed
by the anticipation of death for some time before. During
these last years of her life she composed a number of prayers
called 'Spiritual Exercises' for the use of her fellow-nuns,
the religious fervour of which has perhaps rarely been surpassed.

They are written in rhyme but in varying rhythm;
perhaps they are best designated as rhymed prose. Only the
original Latin can give an idea of their eloquence, but, in
the interest of the general reader I have added one in English
prose. It is one of the series designated as 'a supplication
for sinfulness and a preparation for death.' There is one
prayer for every canonical hour; the following is intended
for repetition after the hour of prime, 'when the Soul holds
converse with Love and Truth; and when the thought of eternal
judgment, at which Truth will preside, causes the Soul to
beseech Love to help her to secure Jesus as her advocate.'

'And thus shalt thou begin to effect a reconciliation
with God.

'O shining Truth, O just Equity of God, how
shall I appear before thy face, bearing my imperfections,
conscious of the burden [352] of my wasted life, and of the
weight of my great negligence? Woe, woe is unto me; I did
not make the payment of a Christian's faith and of a spiritual
life there where the treasures of love are stored, that thou
mightest receive it back with manifold increase of interest.
The talent of life entrusted to me, not only have I left it
unused; but I have forfeited it, debased it, lost it. Where
shall I go, whither shall I turn, how can I escape from thy
presence ?

'O Truth, in thee undivided abide justice and
equity. In accordance with number, weight and measure cost
thou give judgment. Whatever thou cost handle is weighed in
truly even scales. Woe is unto me, a thousand times woe, if
I be given over to thee with none to intercede in my behalf!
O Love, do thou speak for me, answer for me, secure for me
remission. Take up my cause, that through thy grace I may
find eternal life.

'I know what I must do. The chalice of salvation
I will take; the chalice, Jesus, I will place on the unweighted
scale of Truth. Thus, thus can I supply all that is wanting;
thus can I outweigh the balance of my sins. By that chalice
can I counterbalance all my defects. By that chalice I can
more than counterpoise my sins.

'Hail, O Love, thy royal bondservant Jesus,
moved in His inmost being, whom thou didst drag at this hour
before the tribunal, where the sins of the whole world were
laid on Him who was without spot or blemish, save that out
of pity of me He charged Himself with my sins,--Him the most
innocent, Him the most beloved, condemned for love through
my love of Him and suffering death for me, Him I would receive
from thee to-day, O Love Divine, that He may be my advocate.
Grant me this security that in this cause I have Him as my
defender.

'O beloved Truth! I could not come before thee
without my Jesus, but with Jesus to come before thee is joyful
and pleasant. Ah Truth, now sit thee on the seat of judgment,
enter on the course of justice and bring against me what thou
wilt, I fear no evil, for I know, I know thy countenance cannot
confound me, now that He is on my side who is my great hope
and my whole confidence. Verily, I long for thy judgment now
Jesus is with me, He the most beloved, the most faithful,
He who has taken on Himself my misery that He may move thee
to compassion.

'Ah, sweetest Jesus, thou loving pledge of
my deliverance, come with me to the judgment court. There
let us stand together side by side. Be thou my counsel and
my advocate. Declare what [353] thou hast done for me, how
well thou hast thought upon me, how lovingly thou hast added
to me that I might be sanctified through thee. Thou hast lived
for me that I may not perish. Thou hast borne the burden of
my sins. Thou hast died for me that I might not die an eternal
death. All that thou hadst thou gavest for me, that through
the wealth of thy merit I might be made rich.

'Verily in the hour of death judge me on the
basis of that innocence, of that purity which came to me through
thee when thou didst make atonement for my sins with shine
own self, judged and condemned for my sake, so that I, who
am poor and destitute in myself, through thee may be wealthy
beyond measure.'